song and steel
by images-in-words
Summary: Kara Danvers, a.k.a. Supergirl, gets her first assignment as a cub reporter for the National City newspaper owned by her boss, media magnate Cat Grant: cover the U.S. High School Show Choir Championships being held in the Grand Hotel in the heart of the city. There, she meets a most unique group of people: the New Directions of Lima - and neither will ever be the same!
1. Chapter 1

**song and steel**

 _ **a Supergirl / Glee crossover event**_

 **chapter one**

When Cat Grant's voice came crackling over the PA to demand her presence in her office NOW, Kara wondered what it was she had – or maybe _hadn't –_ done to incur her boss' wrath this time. She was pretty sure she'd completed the usual early morning tasks flawlessly; she ran down the mental checklist and found nothing amiss. Scalding hot coffee? Check. Breakfast wrap? Check. Newspapers and downloads? Check, check. So what was it that could possibly have her boss' voice so laden with frost that the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped ten degrees?

She _really_ didn't want to know, but stood up from her chair anyway, groaning as she did, and prepared herself mentally for the tongue-lashing she expected to get when she finally made it into the office. It wasn't far from her desk, but it might as well have been a million miles away.

"Good luck," Winn said from his desk across the aisle, none too sincerely. Kara frowned at the note of relief in his voice. _Yeah – you're just glad it's_ me _she called in there, and not you._

Sighing, Kara trudged into Cat Grant's office with all the eagerness of a death row inmate on his way to the electric chair.

"Kerri," her boss said as she entered, not looking up from the newspapers, tablet and layout sheets for the afternoon edition spread out across her continent-sized desk. "Please. Don't sit."

Kara resisted the impulse to roll her eyes at her boss' casual meanness; she had quickly learned that the woman had an almost preternatural awareness of everything that went on around her, and no detail was too small or insignificant for her to miss.

"Good morning, Ms. Grant. How can I assist you?" she ventured, hoping that her winning smile and cheerful disposition would help to melt the ice floes between herself and her boss.

The media magnate's head quirked up at that, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "For one, you can _never_ utter that phrase again," she said coolly. "This is CatCo, not the Starbucks on the corner. I would have thought you'd learned the difference by now."

Nope. Sunny and cheerful would not win the day here. Kara repressed the urge to sigh.

When Kara didn't respond, Cat continued on. "I have good news for you, Karla. You are about to get your first break here at CatCo. And no, I don't mean an extra fifteen minutes besides lunch. I mean a real, actual break. I'm giving you a story to cover."

Kara smiled widely and kept herself, somehow, from breaking into an awkward, yet endearingly high-spirited happy dance, but couldn't bite back the small squeal of delight that escaped her. "A _real_ story? _Really?_ Oh, thank you, Ms. Grant! Thank you!"

Cat waved her hand in the air beside her head, as though she was batting away a stray wave of happiness emanating from her assistant. _They're so much like puppies at that age,_ she thought. _I could have just given her a chew toy and she would have been equally thrilled._

"It's nothing, really. And by that, I mean it really _is_ nothing. Apparently our esteemed Features and Local Interest reporter, Frank I-don't-care-enough-to-know-his-last-name, has come down with a case of the monkey flu or something, and he can't cover his weekend assignment for the Monday edition. It's a multi-media story for the paper and the Web site, so you'll need to take video in addition to writing the feature."

Kara felt herself nearly bursting with excitement at the thought of becoming a reporter, like a certain famous cousin of hers. She reminded herself of something he had once told her: _there are no small stories – just small reporters._ "Sounds great, Ms. Grant. What's the story?"

The room was silent as Cat made notes in red pen on a piece of copy for the afternoon's editorial page; she frowned momentarily before looking up again at her young assistant.

"There is apparently something called the United States High School Show Choir Championships taking place at the Grand Hotel in the heart of our beloved National City this weekend. _You_ are going to cover it."

Kara made a confused face, her features scrunching up in bewilderment.

" _Show choir?"_ she asked.

Cat let out an exasperated breath. Honestly, employees were so _exhausting._ She found herself looking forward to the day when it would just be her and a staff of automated constructs in the office.

"Frank explained this to me, but I didn't really care, so I wasn't exactly listening. The gist of it was that it's a competition in which groups of hormonally addled teenagers sing and dance in ridiculous costumes for a panel of incredibly bored judges and an audience of people too poor to buy tickets to see an _actual_ musical performance. For some reason, high schools from all over the country send groups to compete for the most dubious national title I can imagine."

Kara thought for a moment, remembering how she'd loved to sing and dance as a kid. "It sounds like fun to me."

Cat barked a humorless laugh. "Of _course_ it does." Rummaging about the pile of clutter on her desk, then looking down into a drawer, she found whatever it was for which she was searching and held it out for Kara to take. "Here. You'll need this."

It was a thick folder containing information about the competition, the groups involved, the history and rules of show choir, and even pictures of the most noteworthy performers. Kara used her super-vision and computer brain to scan and memorize all the information in seconds, all the while managing to look as though she was poring over it with great intensity.

"I want you to study every single detail in that folder tonight. Study and memorize it. Don't eat, don't sleep, don't do _anything_ until you know the story and its subjects forwards, backwards and sideways. Especially the bit about the group our fair state is sending, as they're considered to be one of the favorites to win the whole silly affair: the _New Directions._ "

The Queen of National City Media enunciated the last two words with special care, distastefully remembering the conversation with Frank, in which she had embarrassingly realized that the name sounded like _Nude Erections_ if spoken too quickly. It was lucky for him that he'd gotten sick – otherwise she would have fired the man for that.

"New Directions," Kara repeated slowly. "Their star performer is Rachel Berry, and they're from William McKinley High School in Lima. Their coaches are William Schuester and Shelby Corcoran, and the rest of the group consists of Santana Lopez, Quinn Fabray, Brittany Pierce, Artie Abrams, Kurt Hummel, Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman, Kitty Wilde, Sam Evans, Tina Cohen-Chang, Mike Chang (no relation), Blaine Anderson and Mercedes Jones."

Cat fixed her with an incredulous stare, her eyes narrowed in a look comprised of both astonishment and suspicion. "How – how did you - ?"

"Oh," Kara shrugged her shoulders as her face took on an embarrassed expression. "That? I'm – I'm just a really fast reader. Always have been."

"Your parents must have been delighted when you were in kindergarten."

"They totally were." _Of course, that was on another planet, but still..._

Cat arched an eyebrow. "Yes, well. Good for you, and them. Now – I have real work to do, for which I draw an eight-figure paycheck, and which enables me to pay you substantially less than that, yet still enough for you to afford an apartment that's not the size of a broom closet."

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'll just...I'll just go back to my desk and, um...start doing what I do."

"Excellent." Cat turned her large, plush office chair around to give her attention to one of the many television screens above and behind her desk, signaling Kara's dismissal. Then, as her assistant turned to leave, she raised her hand, one finger pointing skyward as the expensive bangles on her wrist clanked together indelicately.

Kara froze at the sound, knowing exactly what it meant.

"I need another coffee. And a lettuce wrap."

 _Right away, boss._

No one even noticed the blur she made as she grabbed her purse from her desk, zipped out the door and down nineteen flights of stairs to emerge from the front door of the CatCo Media Holdings, Inc. building less than two seconds later. She patted down the collar of her pale blue blouse and smoothed the front of her black pencil skirt while standing just outside the door, then adopted a decidedly more human pace as she headed down the long, wide city block to the deli, where Cat Grant's coffee and lettuce wrap waited to be purchased.

* * *

 **Disclaimer: "Supergirl" and "Glee" are owned by DC Comics and Ryan Murphy Productions, respectively. Characters used herein are merely borrowed for fun and entertainment, not for profit.**


	2. Chapter 2

**song and steel**

 _ **a Supergirl / Glee crossover event**_

 **chapter two**

National City wasn't exactly New York, but for most of the Glee Club kids from McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio, it was still a place spoken about in awed, reverent tones. They had never imagined a place like this - "The City of the Future," the visitor's guide called it – all gleaming towers and soaring spires, polished metal and glass, dreams reflecting in every direction around them. As the bus carrying them, their coaches and one special chaperone (guidance counselor Emma Pillsbury, who was not so secretly one of the coaches' girlfriend) finally rolled up to the hotel, they stood in front of their seats and stretched, cracking backs and groaning aloud in response to the four-hour ride. It was supposed to have been three hours, of course, but with all the rest breaks and some traffic getting into the city, the trip had gone from merely long to seemingly endless, and not without complaint from some of the less patient members of the club.

"We're finally here?! Oh, thank god – I was beginning to think I'd never be able to feel my legs again," one of them moaned, a beautiful raven-haired, tan-skinned, dark-eyed Latina in a cheerleader's outfit, who stood next to a taller blonde with pale skin and ice-blue eyes, also clad in the signature sleeveless top and short paneled skirt that made up the uniform of McKinley High School's championship cheerleading squad, the Cheerios.

"Hey!" came an indignant voice from the back of the bus. "I can _hear_ you, Santana."

"I'm sorry, Artie, but honestly – this is one time you should be _glad_ your legs have no feeling in 'em. I'm just keeping it real."

The owner of the offended voice huffed as the back door of the bus opened. Two boys seated on either side of him lifted him from his seat and carefully stepped down and out of the large vehicle to deposit him gently into his wheelchair.

"Be nice," the blonde standing next to Santana admonished, and the Latina, whose voice and manner had been so proud and defiant a moment before, actually bowed her head and murmured a low _I said I was sorry._

"Ha! Brittany has you totally whipped, doesn't she," laughed a tall boy with a goofy, lopsided grin on his face, which earned him a slap on the arm from his diminutive girlfriend, yet another blonde cheerleader, this one glaring at him with a serious look of displeasure. "Ow! Kitty, what the hell was _that_ for? You know it's true."

"Yes, Finn - and it's also true that you're equally whipped by _me,"_ Kitty replied. _"_ So just shut up and let me out of this mobile version of hell before I climb up your back and over you."

Finn shuffled forward with his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans, looking sullen and not entirely chastened, but knowing better than to further anger the little hell-cat he called his girlfriend. The others – Rachel and Quinn, Blaine and Kurt, Mercedes and Tina, Santana and Brittany, with Sam bringing up the rear - followed him and Kitty in a slow procession out of the bus as Mr. Schuester, Ms. Corcoran and Miss Pillsbury, along with Noah, Mike and Artie, exhorted them from outside to keep the line moving.

The New Directions craned their necks to look up at the glass and steel magnificence of the city surrounding them, especially that of the Grand Hotel itself. No, it wasn't New York, but it was extraordinary just the same, particularly to a bunch of small-town kids, some of whom hadn't ever been to a large city, not even Cleveland or Columbus or Dayton. The hotel looked less like a building than a piece of modern art, seamless in its blending of form and function, elegant and beautiful. Even the three adults caught themselves gawking very much like the young people they were escorting, amidst the low whistles and murmured _ooh_ s and _aah_ s heard among their charges.

"Wow," a tall boy with a dark complexion and a Mohawk haircut said. "This place is _fancy._ All this just for a show choir competition? Man, I bet I'd have to clean pools for a whole year to make enough money to stay here for a single night."

"Then it's a good thing that the National Show Choir Association is footing the bill for this, isn't it, Puck?" Mr. Schue replied, smiling as they filed into the expansive lobby of the hotel, with its gleaming floors and shining walls. Then he raised his hands to signal that the group should stop and gather around him and the other two adults. His expression turned serious when he addressed the clustered group of young performers once more. "Now, I suppose I don't have to tell you all that you need to be on your very best behavior while we're here – but I'll tell you anyway. We are here to represent our school as Regionals champions, so we need to _act_ like champions. That means conducting yourselves with class and dignity. No fighting, no fooling around, and no taunting any of the competition. Understood?"

The group responded with solemn nods and a subdued but sincere "Yes, Mr. Schue."

Mr. Schue tilted his head in Ms. Corcoran's direction, and the intense, dark-haired co-director cleared her throat to speak.

"This is a really big deal, guys, OK? You've worked really, really hard to get here, and we just don't want to see anything get between you and that Nationals trophy. We know you can win this, so don't beat yourselves before you even get on the stage. All right?" Seeing the group shake their heads affirmatively once more, she gestured to Ms. Pillsbury, and the soft-spoken guidance counselor stepped forward.

"We're going to get your room keys now. Girls are sharing rooms with girls, boys with boys. I'm sorry, Kurt – your note was lovely, but you still can't room with Rachel or Mercedes. When we hand you your keys, we'll tell each of you who your roommate will be, and if there's any reason you wish to change your assignment, please let us know and we'll consider working something out to accommodate you."

Kurt grumbled something about how he _knew_ he should have included a box of chocolates with that note as Mr. Schue and Ms. Corcoran strode across the floor to the front desk and presented their credentials to the hotel employees seated there. Mercedes laid a sympathetic hand on his arm, and the boy silently thanked her with a grateful smile.

A few minutes later, the co-directors returned to the group with electronic key cards in hand. Mr. Schuester cleared his throat to get the kids' attention, and Ms. Corcoran's tone and demeanor were all business as she said, "Okay, this is how it goes: Quinn and Rachel, come get your key." The two girls smiled at each other as they walked up to Ms. Pillsbury and happily accepted their key. The process continued in the same way, with each set of roommates stepping forward to claim their keys from the wide-eyed counselor as their names were called.

"Mercedes and Tina. Santana, Kitty and Brittany. Mike, Sam and Artie. Finn and Puck. Kurt and Blaine."

When the last two keys were claimed, Ms. Pillsbury smiled, and Mr. Schue clapped his hands. "All right. Ms. Corcoran, Ms. Pillsbury and I are going to make sure that all of your luggage gets brought up to the right rooms, so go on up and relax for a bit. We will all meet back down here for dinner in one hour, so don't be late."

Chattering excitedly amongst themselves, the kids hustled off to the elevators to find their rooms while the three adults smiled softly after them, watching them go. They were immensely proud of their little group, which had gone through a great deal to get to this place, and each was determined to do whatever they could to make their young dreams come true.

They were about to go back to the bus to check on how the loading of all the luggage onto the baggage carts was going when they were startled by the approach of a pretty young woman in glasses and casual business attire, whom none of them had seen enter the building even though they'd all been looking towards the doors.

"Um, hi. Excuse me, but I – I'm Kara Danvers, from CatCo Media. I've been assigned to cover your team and the competition for the National City newspaper and web site." She awkwardly stuck out her hand for someone – _anyone –_ to shake, a nervous expression on her face.

Mr. Schuester took the offered hand and shook it gently, missing both the jealous scowl on Ms. Pillsbury's face and Ms. Corcoran's amused smile.

Kara's super-hearing picked up the ginger-haired woman's accelerated heart rate as she shook the man's hand. _Oh, honey. He's very handsome, but_ so _not my type._

"Will Schuester. Very nice to meet you," he said. Then he gestured to the two women standing slightly behind him. "This is Shelby Corcoran, our co-director, and Emma Pillsbury, one of the school's guidance counselors and our team's official good luck charm."

Shelby stepped up beside Will and flashed a winning smile. "Hello. It's a pleasure. So I guess you'll be spending a lot of time with us over the weekend? That's wonderful," she said in a honey-smooth, yet slightly husky voice as she grasped Kara's still-offered hand. Kara heard this woman's heart rate increase too, but while the other one had clearly been experiencing a flash of jealousy, she couldn't quite figure out the reason for Shelby's sudden spike.

Then Kara caught the glint in the woman's eye as she looked her up and down. Oh. _Oh!_

A throat cleared, and Shelby was forced to release Kara's hand. Emma stepped forward, pointed at the young reporter's hand and shook her head _no._ "Nothing personal, it's just – _germs -_ " she all but whispered the word. " - you know? I have sort of a...a _thing_ about them." The momentary grimace that crossed the woman's pretty face as she said this told Kara all she needed to know.

"Of – of course. I understand," Kara said, smiling. "It's nice to meet you all," She looked around and, frowning in disappointment at not seeing the group of young people she had come to observe, asked, "Where are the kids?"

"They all went up to their rooms to relax and freshen up a bit," Shelby answered. "After we get their luggage all sorted out, we're meeting back down here to get some dinner. You're welcome to join us and meet the kids then if you like. In fact, I _insist_. After all, it's not every day that a small town team like us gets interviewed by a reporter for a major media company. Right, Will?"

"Of course! I'm sure the kids would love to meet you," came the man's enthusiastic response. Kara was sure that 'enthusiasm' was his default setting.

"Will, don't you think the kids might be tired after the long ride? Maybe it would be better for them to get a good night's rest before they start getting grilled by some big city reporter," Emma protested.

 _She doesn't trust me,_ Kara thought. _I guess she's a little shy, a little guarded. Maybe she's right. Lima's not exactly right next door, after all._ "Um, perhaps I should go," she offered, uncertain as to what she should do. "I don't want to create any kind of additional stress for the kids or anything -"

Shelby cut her off, waving away her concerns with a flick of her hand. "Nonsense. They've gotten through a lot worse just to get here. A few minutes of introducing themselves and chatting a little bit won't hurt them."

Before Kara could respond, a tall, fit-looking young man in a crisp Grand Hotel uniform came through the door pushing a large trolley laden with bags and suitcases, grunting with the effort. Without thinking, Kara said, "Hey, let me help you with that." The young man stepped aside, bewildered, as the shorter, smaller woman pushed the heavy cart in front of her with _one hand_ , as though it weighed nothing at all.

Will caught the disappointed look on the young man's face, realizing that he probably thought he had just been deprived of a good tip. "Hey," he called, drawing the hotel employee's attention, and when the young man stepped forward with a questioning look, he pressed several bills into his palm. "Sorry about that."

"No problem at all, sir," the guy said, a bright smile of appreciation quickly replacing his previously dejected expression. "She probably just saved me a couple of visits to the chiropractor's office." Then he shrugged, pocketing the money. "You all have a nice night, and don't hesitate to call down to the front desk if you need anything." With that, he took his leave to await his next summons.

Will, Shelby and Emma all turned to watch Kara glide across the floor with otherworldly grace, pushing the cart as though it were a child's toy, and if the young reporter had looked back to catch their gazes, she would have seen that Will's eyes held wonder, Emma's held unease, and Shelby's, fascination.


	3. Chapter 3

**song and steel**

 _ **a Supergirl / Glee crossover event**_

 **chapter three**

Kara concentrated on using her super-hearing to pick up the voices of the McKinley High glee club members so that she could locate their floor and room numbers. She had watched videos of them on YouTube, both performances and silly, candid behind-the-scenes kind of stuff, and knew that she would recognize any of their speaking or singing voices if she could just filter out all the other sounds and voices around her. Which, of course, was not easy to do, especially with the whine of the elevator as it moved from floor to floor, and the laughter and conversation of all the other glee clubs and other random guests in the building. She frowned as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened - only to be surprised by the cheerful, smiling face and diminutive form of the New Directions' star performer, one Rachel Barbra Berry.

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, evidently just as startled to see Kara standing in the elevator with a large baggage cart. "Are these our bags? I was just about to go down to inquire as to their whereabouts. Are you one of the hotel employees? You certainly aren't dressed like one. Were you late for your shift and not allowed to change into your uniform? And where is your name tag? Don't you have to wear one? This hotel is very strange."

Kara was taken aback by the girl's rapid-fire word barrage. "Um, no. I mean, yes! Er, yes, these are your bags, but no, I'm not a hotel employee. Would you mind stepping back a bit so I can pull the cart out of the elevator here?"

"By _yourself?_ That's an awful lot of baggage there. Why don't you just stay here for a moment while I text Puck and Mike to come over and help? It will just take a moment, and -"

The woman and the cart were out of the elevator before Rachel could type a single letter on her phone. She blinked owlishly, her eyes darting from the piles of bags on the cart to the woman and back again. "Uh – how did you - ?"

"I work out a lot," Kara said dryly.

"Clearly," Rachel murmured.

Two cheerleaders in red and white letterman jackets and short red skirts came sauntering down the hallway. One was tall and blonde, the other shorter, with dark skin and darker hair, both in pony tails. Kara recognized them from her video watching as Brittany Pierce and Santana Lopez, the former an amazing dancer, the latter a singer whose talent almost rivaled Rachel's.

"I see you found our bags, finally," Santana said, eyeing the stranger with Rachel up and down. "Nice work, Berry. Who's the girl in glasses here?"

Kara pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, suddenly feeling oddly self-conscious in a way she hadn't felt since her own high school days. She smiled and said, "My name is Kara Danvers. I'm here to report on the show choir championships here for CatCo Media, print and web editions." Sticking her hand out for any of the three girls to shake, she continued: "I've watched your videos on YouTube. You're all very talented. I can see why they're saying you're the team to beat this year."

Unexpectedly, she found her hand grasped by Brittany. "You're hot," the cheerleader said in her strangely monotone voice. "I never realized that glasses could be sexy until, like, just now." She let go of Kara's hand to focus on the Latina girl standing next to her with an incredulous expression. "Why didn't you ever tell me that, Santana?"

"Um, that would be because they're _not,_ " Santana answered. "No offense."

"None taken," Kara said, affecting a nervous cough.

"Yes, they _are,_ Santana. I mean, look at her. Can you _really_ tell me that those glasses aren't doing anything for you?"

Rachel interrupted with a clearing of the throat. "A- _hem._ Well, as fascinated as I am by this discussion of the possible effect on the libido created by the wearing of eyeglasses, I think it's past time to get our luggage distributed so that we can finish getting ready to meet downstairs for dinner." She turned her attention to Kara once more. "Thank you very much for bringing our bags up. If you'll follow me, I'll show you where all our rooms are."

"Oh, good!" Brittany exclaimed, clapping her hands. "I was hoping you would. I've already forgotten where our rooms are."

Santana rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's adorable ditziness. "Britt, we just – oh, never mind. Yeah, come on, Berry. Lead the way."

Rachel turned on her heel and began to walk briskly down the hall in the direction from which Santana and Brittany had just come. Kara shrugged and pushed the luggage-laden cart in front of her, with the two cheerleaders following after.

They stopped in front of a door. Rachel rapped her knuckles smartly against it, and the door opened to reveal a smiling Asian girl in a mini-dress.

"Hello, Tina," Rachel said warmly. "I come bearing luggage. Think you can find yours in here somewhere?"

"Hey, Rachel. Hey, Santana, Brittany. So this is all our stuff, finally? Great!" She turned her head to call back into the room. "Mercedes, you want to come get your bags?"

A pretty, heavy-set African-American girl wearing black jeans and a white T-shirt with the words _Choose Love_ on it came to the door to stand behind Tina. "Oh, hell yes. It's about time they got here." Kara scanned the name tags on all the bags in an instant and found those belonging to Mercedes, handing them to the girl before she even had a chance to look for them herself.

"Wow, thanks!" Mercedes was shocked as she took the bags from the strange woman in glasses. "How did you know which ones were mine?"

Kara shrugged, affecting a nervous chuckle as she felt several pairs of eyes upon her, staring. "Lucky guess." She looked back at the pile of bags on the cart, pulled out two from the very bottom without any of the other bags falling off the cart, somehow. "Oh, and...Miss Cohen-Chang, right? These are yours."

The bags plopped to the floor at Tina's feet. The Asian girl just stood there speechless for a moment before recovering. "Uh, yeah. Thanks. I'm sorry, but who _are_ you?"

Rachel spoke up. "Oh! Please forgive my manners. Tina, this is Kara Danvers, a reporter for CatCo Media here in National City. She's covering our competition for the newspaper _and_ the paper's web site. Isn't that _exciting?_ We're going to be in a big city newspaper! Of course, it's not the same as being in a New York paper, but I have planned for that eventuality in the not too distant future, so I'll be prepared for it when it happens, which will most likely be when I've made my Broadway debut at the tender age of nineteen."

Santana rolled her eyes, earning herself a mild smack on the arm from Brittany. "Don't do that," she whispered in the girl's ear. "It's mean, and one day your eyeballs could freeze like that. What would you do then?"

Kara stifled a chuckle, having of course heard the loopy blonde cheerleader's admonishment despite her low whisper. "Pleased to meet you," Kara said, extending her hand for Tina and Mercedes to shake. The two girls looked at her strangely, but didn't hesitate to shake her hand.

"Yeah," Mercedes said slowly, drawing out the word. "Well, it's been nice standing out here in the hallway with y'all, but we really need to get ourselves ready for dinner. I guess we'll see you around, Ms. Danvers. Have a good night now."

"Mercedes is right. We really shouldn't be dawdling like this. Tardiness is never a good thing," Rachel mused, frowning at the mere thought of being late for the group's evening meal, over which they would bond and discuss their strategy for the competition.

The next room belonged to Mike, Sam and Artie, and it was a blonde, pouty lipped boy who answered the door when Rachel knocked. "Hi, Sam," she said brightly. He smiled in return, waving to Brittany and Santana as well.

"Hey, Trouty Mouth," Santana greeted. "You're the next stop on the Luggage Express. Get Boy Chang and Wheels over here so they can get their stuff."

As she had before, Kara knew where everyone's bags were before the boys could even begin trying to figure it out, and they mumbled and murmured to themselves in confusion as to how the unknown woman had done it.

And so it went for the rest of the group. Santana and Brittany left Rachel alone with Kara when they got to their room, after quickly introducing Kitty. Kara just barely managed to hide a blush after overhearing Santana say something into Brittany's ear about taking a few minutes before dinner to "get their mack on."

Somewhere along the line Rachel had managed to text Mr. Schue to let him know that his bags, along with Ms. Pillsbury's and Ms. Corcoran's, were with theirs, and soon they were joined by the three adults - all of whom, Rachel noticed, looked at Kara strangely before shuffling off with their bags to their respective rooms.

"You seem to have an... _interesting_ effect on people, Ms. Danvers," Rachel mused as they finally got to her room, which was the last of them. "I suppose not many have seen anyone with your particular combination of beauty, grace, skill and strength before. I know I haven't. Some of those bags were very heavy – mine in particular, since I never pack light when I go on a trip. One has to be prepared for anything when away from home, I always say. Yet you had no trouble at all with any of them."

Rachel regarded her with a thoughtful look on her face, as though she was having an internal debate about something. Kara looked at the girl quizzically. Somehow, she couldn't read her, couldn't tell what was going through her mind, which was something that never happened. The girl appeared extraordinarily calm, despite her internal struggle.

Then, without warning, Rachel reached out to touch Kara's arm, causing her to tense up involuntarily, her bicep flexing inside her sleeve. Rachel smiled, having gotten exactly the response for which she'd been hoping.

"Wow," Rachel breathed. She bit her lip, looking up at Kara through long, dark eyelashes as she lightly squeezed the hard muscle of Kara's arm. "I guess you really _do_ work out a lot."

"Um...yeah, I mean, yes, yes, I do," Kara stammered, thrown by Rachel's action. "But I also come from a very, er, genetically gifted family, so..."

Rachel giggled. "You mean there are more at home like you? I find that very difficult to believe, Ms. Danvers. I would submit that you're one of a kind."

Before Kara could respond, the door to Rachel's room opened, and a very pretty blonde girl in a yellow sundress and a white cardigan stood there, looking slightly exasperated. Rachel quickly - but reluctantly - removed her hand from Kara's arm.

"Hello, Quinn," she said, smiling brightly, as though absolutely nothing had just happened.

"I was just about to go looking for you, Rachel!" Quinn exclaimed. "Where have you been? You do know we're supposed to be meeting everybody downstairs for dinner in about a half hour, don't you?"

"Of course I'm aware," Rachel replied. "There was a lot of baggage to be distributed, and Ms. Danvers here needed to be introduced to everyone."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. She looked at Kara skeptically, as though measuring her and finding her somehow wanting. "Ms. Danvers?"

"That's me," Kara said. "I'm with CatCo Media, covering the show choir championships for our print and web editions. Very nice to meet you, Miss Fabray. I've read a lot about all of you, and watched videos of your group online as well. You have a very lovely voice."

"Thanks. It's not nearly as good as Rachel's, but we all bring different strengths to the team, as she would say."

Rachel beamed. The intensity of her smile was so bright, Kara actually had to step back just to absorb it. This girl was really something else.

"This is very true," Rachel agreed, bobbing her head. "And you _do_ have a lovely voice, Quinn. I've always enjoyed your singing immensely, even when you sing with Sam or Puck."

Kara busied herself during this exchange with removing the last of the bags from the cart, dropping Quinn's at her feet. "Well, I've been invited by one of your advisors, Ms. Corcoran, to join you all for dinner, so I suppose I should get down there myself," she said. "I guess I'll see you soon, then."

Rachel's smile fell. "Would you – would you like to come in to our room and refresh yourself? Have some water, perhaps?"

Quinn's eyebrow went up again. Kara was certain that the girl was capable of holding entire conversations with minute variations of that eyebrow raise. The slight rise in the girl's body temperature told Kara that Quinn was beginning to get a little agitated, so she thought it would be best for her to make her exit at this point.

"Oh, thanks, but no. I'm fine, really. I'll just get downstairs and let whoever might already be in the lobby know that you'll be along soon. Okay?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Quinn replied coolly, before Rachel could respond. "Thank you very much for all your help, Ms. Danvers. I'm looking forward to speaking with you privately at some point over the weekend. After all, I assume you'll be interviewing at least a few of us for your story, right?"

"Right. Yes, of course. Interviews. Lots and lots of interviews coming up, yes. And on that note – ha! See what I did there? A musical joke! Well, yes, okay then. See you soon."

"See you soon, Ms. Danvers," Rachel called out as Kara marched briskly down the hallway to the elevator, pulling the now empty luggage cart behind her. She had faced down all kinds of aliens and monsters, techno-beings, magical entities and super-powered villains, but nothing in recent memory had ever made her feel so out of sorts as this unusual bunch of teenagers - especially Rachel Berry. What this could possibly mean, however, Kara had no earthly idea.


	4. Chapter 4

**song and steel**

 _ **a Supergirl / Glee crossover event**_

 **chapter four**

The members of New Directions were understandably enthusiastic, if not quite boisterous, as they spilled out of the elevators and into the lobby to meet up with Mr. Schuester, Ms. Corcoran and Ms. Pillsbury for dinner in the beautifully appointed hotel restaurant. Kara stood with the three adults, fidgeting in discomfort, acutely aware of the three pairs of eyes that were focused squarely upon her. Mr. Schuester – _Please, call me Will!_ \- regarded her with a guileless sort of wonder, as though he hadn't met anyone older than 18 in the last decade that wasn't a fellow teacher. Ms. Corcoran – _Call me Shelby; Ms. Corcoran is too formal and stuffy, don't you think? -_ reminded her of some kind of bird of prey examining its potential dinner from above, wondering whether to play with it a bit before snapping its neck. And Ms. Pillsbury – _Emma is fine._ \- just seemed nervous and apprehensive, although that might well be her natural state, considering her earlier comments about germs.

Mike and Sam wheeled Artie out first, all smiling and cheerful, followed by Kurt and Blaine, happily chatting with each other as though no one else was around. Santana and Brittany came next, pinkies linked, both girls' cheeks flushed; a listen to their heart rates told Kara that they had most likely been interrupted in the act of "getting their mack on," as Santana had wanted to do. It didn't seem that Santana was the least bit upset about it, though, which Kara supposed was good. She had a feeling that the intense Ms. Lopez was not the type you wanted to deal with when angered, in contrast to her perpetually sunny blonde girlfriend, who whispered something in Santana's ear that made the girl break out into a peal of laughter.

Kitty, Tina and Mercedes came after them, the short blonde cheerleader marching a little ahead as though she were leading the trio into battle, a determined, focused look on her face. It made Kara think that this show choir competition meant a lot more to the girl than she ever let on to her fellow club members. On the other hand, Tina and Mercedes appeared to be quite confident and at ease with themselves. Kara reasoned that this was because Kitty was new to the group, having joined only this year, while the other two girls had already proven their worth many times over, based on the many YouTube videos of the group she had watched.

Finn and Puck followed the trio of girls, animatedly joking and high-fiving each other. Puck exuded the charm and easy charisma of the guy in every high school that all the girls wanted to date, and all the other guys wished they could be. Although, that Mohawk – _really_? Kara shrugged internally. She hadn't thought that was a good look back when she'd been their age, and it certainly hadn't aged well since then.

When Quinn and Rachel came into view at last, Kara felt her heart stutter for just a moment as Rachel's large brown eyes found her own and the girl's incandescent smile weakened her knees as effectively as a Kryptonite rock. Then she noticed the hard gaze that Quinn directed her way and felt compelled to straighten her spine and square her shoulders. It became clear to Kara that while Kitty thought herself a leader, Quinn was _born_ to lead, and it was only because Rachel was so extraordinarily talented that she deferred to the little starlet. Where Santana was volatile, Quinn was deadly calm. Where Santana was the type to yell in someone's face, Quinn would eviscerate them with a few perfectly chosen words. Both were dangerous if not handled correctly, but Kara felt compelled to make a good impression on Quinn for some reason.

It was also clear, from the way Quinn and Rachel smiled at each other with genuine sweetness, that the two were very close friends. They chuckled softly and shoved playfully at each other's shoulders as they walked into the lobby to join the rest of the group, and Kara didn't need super-vision to see the honest affection each held for the other. It was equally easy to see that this closeness was shared by the team as a whole, and that it played as much of a role in the New Directions' success as their undeniable musical talent, Kara realized. She could feel the unity in their easy camaraderie; they were strong individuals, to be sure - but together, they were a virtually unstoppable force. They were more than a team. They were _family._

The three adults standing alongside her positively glowed with pride as their young charges made their way towards them. They looked at these diverse, gifted kids as though they were their parents, and it made Kara think of the happy looks her own adopted parents had given her whenever she'd done something special, whether it was getting a good grade on a paper or a test or mastering one of her powers. She felt her own breath catch in her throat at the pure, palpable emotion that rolled off the group in waves. Love, her mother had told her, was the most powerful thing on Earth, if not the entire universe. Feeling the love this group of people had for each other was a reminder of how true those words really were.

"Right on time," Mr. Schuester beamed. "And looking good, guys. Now, I know you know how important it is for you to eat well and get enough sleep the night before a performance, so I don't have to tell you that I expect everyone to be in their rooms, in bed and with the lights out by eleven o'clock, right? We'll meet here in the lobby at nine tomorrow morning to rehearse, and then we need to be in the auditorium by ten-thirty for the first round of competition. Ms. Corcoran and I should have the order in which all the teams are scheduled to go on stage e-mailed to us no later than eight-thirty, so we'll know who's going on before and after us."

"It doesn't matter who's going on when – we're gonna smoke 'em all," Puck said boastfully, earning whoops and _hell yeahs_ and high fives from most of the others. Rachel frowned, however, and as she turned to face him, a low murmur rippled through the group.

"Berry's about to blow," Santana whispered to Quinn, who could only nod in agreement as she tried and failed to grasp Rachel by the wrist to restrain her from going off on the boy.

The tiny starlet's expression turned gravely serious as she regarded her cocky teammate. Everyone knew what that look meant. Even Mr. Schuester and Ms. Corcoran knew better than to try to interrupt her now. She crossed her arms and stamped one foot in exasperation, then drew a deep breath before she launched into one of her patented diva rants.

"Noah, while it is important for us to be confident, both as individuals and as a team, I strongly counsel you and everyone else to refrain from being _over-_ confident. Every team here wants to win just as much as we do, and you can be sure that they've all brought their 'A' games to this competition. We should take each and every one of them seriously, and not lull ourselves into a sense of false security by believing, possibly erroneously, that we are the _only_ ones worthy of being here this weekend. Let's respect this competition, and ourselves, by respecting our opponents as we would surely wish them to respect us."

Kara was impressed by the girl's passion, her willingness to stand up and speak her mind, even if it made her unpopular. It took courage for a young person to set herself apart from her friends.

"Oh, come on, Rachel," Finn interjected. "You know everything there is to know about this whole show choir thing. You know every team's strengths and weaknesses, who the best performers on every team are, who their coaches are, even the way they're coached – and as if that wasn't enough, you're the best individual singer in this entire competition. How can we possibly lose?"

"Puffy nips there does have a point," Santana snarked. "Plus you've made us rehearse so much, and for so long, that we could sing the songs and dance the routines in our sleep."

"Actually, I already do that. Dance the routines in my sleep, I mean," Brittany said. "That way Lord Tubbington can't steal 'em and show the other teams the steps."

Santana smiled at her girlfriend. "Good plan, baby." Then she turned her attention back to Rachel. "But seriously, Rachel – just relax already, okay? Puck's not saying anything the rest of us don't already know. Take it as a compliment, for crissakes."

"Yeah," Sam piped up. "We've got this. Why are you so worried all of a sudden, anyway?"

Rachel sighed, her anger suddenly spent. "I'm not worried, Sam – I just...I don't like to take anything for granted. I won't be able to relax completely until they've announced us as the winners and the trophy is in our hands."

Ms. Corcoran, tired of waiting for Will to step in and put an end to this unnecessary discord, spoke up. "Rachel is right, everyone. Just because we're coming into this competition as the favorite - "

" _Overwhelming_ favorite," Puck interrupted, still unwilling to concede the point.

" - yes, that." Ms. Corcoran's eyes narrowed at him, and Puck shrank back from the intensity of her gaze. _Damn, she's almost as scary as Rachel when she does that,_ he thought.

"As I was saying, just because we're favored to win doesn't mean it's automatically fated to happen. You still need to rehearse and perform with every single thing you've got if you really want to win this thing. Now is _not_ the time to get complacent. It's actually the worst possible time for that."

"That's right, guys," Will finally said. "Now, come on, let's go." He motioned to the group to get them moving along, and as they walked forward, he spoke again. "Oh, and Ms. Danvers here will be joining us so that she can ask you a few questions and get to know you all a little bit for the big story she's writing about you. I expect you all to be polite and respectful to her, and answer her questions honestly, okay?"

The group mumbled _okay_ and _yeah_ and _sure_ under its collective breath as they shuffled over to the restaurant. Kara smiled at them reassuringly, knowing that at least some of them were probably not entirely thrilled about being interviewed by a reporter. She could understand why, of course; after all, the media was not exactly viewed as wholesome and trustworthy by most people, even the young, these days. Out of all the New Directions, only Rachel returned a true, full-blown, happy smile to her, and this made her feel simultaneously pleased and unaccountably nervous. While she mused over why she felt this way, she missed Shelby regarding her with a curious expression - one that would have given her pause, if only she had noticed.

The restaurant, like the rest of the hotel, was beautiful and elegant, and the show choirs and coaches all packed into the large, almost cavernous space, _ooh-_ ed and _aah-_ ed over the lush carpeting and fancy décor. The nicest restaurants back home in Lima couldn't hold a candle to this place. Some of the kids worried aloud as to the menu would be so upscale and gourmet that they wouldn't be able to find anything they liked to eat. There was a loud sigh of relief after the menus were passed out by the pretty young server and, upon inspection, proved to contain plenty of items that the typical teenager could enjoy, including burgers, personal pizzas and – much to Rachel's delight - even vegan fare.

Apart from the moment when Shelby shot Puck a murderous glare when the boy tried to order an alcoholic beverage, the ordering process for the energetic group went surprisingly smoothly. Even though Kara technically didn't need to eat, due to her alien physiology, she was capable of it, so she ordered a personal pizza and an iced tea, as many of the others had. The kids laughed and talked amongst themselves so animatedly that she wondered how she'd ever be able to get a word in edgewise. She was glad to see that no one was left out or ignored, that the conversation bounced back and forth between all the members of the group and not just a select few; she could still remember her own high school days, when so many of her peers had either been excluded or engaged in actively excluding others, even when participating in the same activity.

Almost as if she knew what Kara was thinking, Ms. Pillsbury spoke quietly, "You might not be able to tell from looking at them now, but back home in Lima, these kids are considered to be the losers and outcasts in our school. They're bonded so closely together because they're really all they have. Even the football players - Finn, Sam, Mike and Puck -" - she nodded in the boys' direction - " - they're not entirely accepted by most of the guys on that team because they're in the glee club. And the cheerleaders – Santana, Brittany and Kitty – they're the co-captains of their team, so they get more respect, but the other girls on that squad would love nothing more than to take them down so they can be on top of the pyramid. They love Glee because it's not like that. In this club, everyone is not only _allowed_ , but _encouraged_ to be exactly who they are, without fear or judgment. Quinn used to be the head cheerleader, in fact, but she quit the team because she would rather be part of a group that values her for who she really is _,_ and not who they think she's supposed to be - that builds her up instead of threatening to tear her down. If you ask me, _that's_ what your story ought to be about." She paused, smiling softly. "The competition, the singing, the dancing...all those things are wonderful, and the kids are so amazingly talented that it truly takes my breath away – but the best thing about this club is the way it's brought these kids together and taught them how to work together, how to love themselves and each other. Just...just think about it."

Kara pursed her lips at the young guidance counselor's words. She had sensed that there was something special about these kids from the first moment she met them, and the more she observed the proud way their coaches looked at them, the more convinced she became that it was true. She took a pen and small notepad from her purse and used her super-memory to write down everything that Emma had just said. It was just for show, of course; she didn't actually need to write anything down at all, but since it was expected that a reporter would be recording their words in some way, she had to go along with it and look the part.

As she wrote, she became aware of a pair of eyes intently trained upon her. Flicking her own eyes upwards for a split-second, she saw that it wasn't Rachel staring at her, but Shelby Corcoran. The woman had a very thoughtful expression on her face, as though she was measuring Kara in some way. She couldn't quite figure out what the co-director of the New Directions was trying to assess, exactly, so she decided simply to ask.

Putting her pen down beside the notepad, she ventured, "Ms. Corcoran?"

The beautiful co-director of the New Directions frowned slightly at the formal address, but didn't protest, choosing instead to respond in kind.

"Yes, Ms. Danvers?"

"You've been, um, well – scrutinizing me pretty intensely for a while now, and, um, I'm wondering, ah – do you have any questions for me before I start interviewing the kids?"

Shelby laughed her deep, throaty, musical laugh before answering. "Scrutinizing, huh? Spoken like a true woman of words. Well, now that you mention it...yes. Yes, I _do_ have a question. More like an observation, really. You seem pretty young, Ms. Danvers. Yet I can't help but feel as though there's something about you, something that seems...older, somehow. Like you have far more experience than it appears. Like you've been through things. It...intrigues me."

Kara blinked in surprise behind her glasses. _More like an observation, really._ She felt as though Shelby Corcoran had put her on a slide and was peering at her through a microscope. It took her a moment to collect herself and try to formulate a response.

She was saved, however, by the arrival of their server, joined by two others, all with large trays containing their food. The Glee Club members cheered as the plates were placed in front of them, most laden with typical teenage fare - burgers, pizza, chicken tenders and such; but she noticed that Rachel, Quinn and the cheerleaders had all ordered salads. She figured that the cheerleaders were on some kind of diet required by their coach, as they generally needed to be at or below a certain weight to perform. Quinn and Rachel, however, were under no such dietary restrictions.

Rachel caught Kara's curious stare and smiled. "I'm a vegan," she said simply. "And Quinn doesn't like to eat heavy the night before a big performance. It's a habit left over from her days as Head Cheerio, and not a bad one, really. There's nothing worse than going on stage feeling bloated. Fortunately, most of our team members have a pretty fast metabolism, so it's not really much of a problem."

"I see," Kara replied. "That...that's very smart, actually. You really _do_ think about every aspect of the competition. I'm impressed."

Rachel beamed at the praise. "Thank you, Ms. Danvers." Then, as her eyes raked up and down Kara's upper body, she said, "I suppose you have to eat fairly often to maintain your physique. Most likely you require far more protein than the vegan diet provides, so I won't chide you for putting that pepperoni on your pizza."

Kara's eyes widened. Was the girl actually _flirting_ with her, right here at the table? She couldn't imagine herself being anywhere near so bold when she was that age.

"Never mind the fact that it would be kind of rude to do that, Rachel," Mr. Schuester scolded lightly.

Seeing the pout on Rachel's face – and the rolling of Quinn's eyes – at the man's mild admonition, Kara leaped to the girl's defense. "No, no, it's all right, really. I like the way you speak your mind, Rachel. I don't think I could have put myself out there the way you do when I was your age."

"Believe me, we've all heard the vegan spiel a million times by now," Mercedes said as she sipped at her chocolate milkshake. "She knows that we respect her beliefs, even if we don't agree with them. That's how the Glee Club works."

"It's true," Kurt agreed, speaking around delicate bites of his club sandwich. "Rachel is our star, the leader of our team, but we don't always necessarily defer to her. There's a lot of give and take in a group like this, but at the end of the day, most of the decisions are made by majority vote."

"It's all about what's best for the club as a whole," Blaine chimed in. "If we think a song might be better suited for someone other than Rachel to sing, then we discuss it, then we have all the candidates sing it, and then finally we have a vote. That's why Rachel doesn't get _all_ the solos, and she's fine with it. She knows even a star is is part of a team, and the team does better when everybody gets a chance to shine."

"Although it took me a little time to realize that," Rachel said, shaking her head at an unwelcome memory. "Ultimately, being your friend is even more important to me than being a star - although happily, the two are not mutually exclusive." Everyone laughed at that.

"Preach," Artie said, raising a bicycle gloved hand and waving it in the air. Mercedes and Tina quickly mimicked the gesture, provoking even more laughter from the group. Sam and Mike high-fived each other. Puck and Finn punched each other's shoulders, while Kitty rolled her eyes at the boys' antics before breaking out in an affectionate smile as she looked at her big, goofy boyfriend. Brittany and Santana took the opportunity to share a chaste kiss, to the surprise of absolutely no one. They were always sneaking kisses when they thought no one would notice. Of course, _everybody_ noticed - but nobody really cared. They were just happy that their friends were happy and in love.

Quinn smiled as well, then looked up and down the table at the group before speaking in her breathy, yet strangely intense voice. "Rachel once said that being a part of something special makes you special. Every day, I realize more and more just how special this club is, and how happy I am to be a part of it. I don't know, honestly, if _I_ feel special because of it, but I _do_ know that what we have together is something I'll treasure and cherish for the rest of my life. You guys became my family at a time when my own family was falling apart, and I don't think I said enough at the time, or even since then, how much I appreciate everything you've all done for me. And that's why I want us to win that trophy this weekend – because to me, it's a symbol of who we are and how much we all mean to each other."

"Well said, if extremely sappy, Q," Santana snarked, though Kara clearly saw the caramel-skinned cheerleader's eyes were moist with tears, as were those of most of the others. Then she stood with her glass raised in hand. "I propose a toast – to being the most awesome show choir in the entire freakin' country, and to bringing that big-ass trophy back home to Lima!"

Glasses clinked together all around, and Kara joined in with Will, Shelby and Emma when they all exclaimed as one, "To the New Directions!"

The table was relatively silent for a time after that as the group concentrated on their food, which all agreed was wonderful. Phones were brought out from time to time to snap pictures, like when Brittany and Santana shared long strands of spaghetti from the blonde cheerleader's plate, or when Tina folded her cloth napkin into a perfect origami swan. Or when Rachel bounced out of her seat to hug and plant a quick kiss on Mr. Schuester's cheek. These were the spontaneous actions of a team that was completely at ease with itself, genuinely enjoying the evening and each other's company. Right here, right now, there was nowhere else they would rather be.

Kara's memory served as her camera as she watched this amazing group of kids, feeling her own heart swell with affection for them. She knew that reporters were supposed to keep a certain distance, a kind of detachment from their subjects, yet she couldn't help but begin to feel close to them. They were easy to root for, easy to relate to, and Kara found herself wanting the victory to go to the New Directions as much as she imagined the group itself wanted it.

Caught up in the high spirit of the moment, it was also easy for even Kara's super-senses to miss the slinking shadow that slid from corner to corner in the vast space of the restaurant. A shadow that shivered with hatred at the happy faces and playful exuberance filling the room. A shadow that had come to this place to find the one entity that could disrupt its plans for dominance over this pitiful excuse for a world, and was surprised to find that there was actually not just one such being here, but _two._ One, the shadow knew, was Supergirl. That Kryptonian scent was known and feared throughout the Known Realms, especially in the dimension of darkness from which it had come, an incalculable distance away. But the other was new, its energy completely unknown to it. The being cloaked within the shadow shrugged away the annoyance it felt at this unforeseen obstacle. No matter. The larger the victory, the greater the glory, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**song and steel**

 _ **a Glee / Supergirl crossover event**_

 **chapter five**

It was late, but Rachel couldn't sleep. This was unusual for her, as she had never gotten less than eight hours' worth of sleep a night since she turned thirteen, when she had learned that teenagers needed at least that many hours to function at an optimal level during the day. And for Rachel Berry, optimal was the _only_ level at which to function. She couldn't imagine being at less than her best on any given day, in any given situation, because you just never knew what life might throw at you. Plus, she was sure that her dedication to proper rest – along with diet and exercise – was the reason she had never been sick a day in her life.

And yet here she was, feeling a strange sort of restlessness, something stirring inside her, a nameless, inchoate sensation that just wouldn't let her fall into her usual deep and dreamless slumber. She couldn't name it, or even describe it, this tug at her mind, which frustrated and annoyed her almost as much as the loss of sleep did. It was real, though, this feeling, and whatever it was, she couldn't escape its pull, its almost gravitational compulsion. With a soft groan, she gave in and got up out of bed, hoping not to disturb Quinn as she did, and found herself looking out the window, up at the stars.

The night sky had always held a certain fascination for Rachel, though she couldn't say why; nor could she explain why she had never told anyone about the way the black curtain of sky, sequined with its infinite number of stars, made her feel. Yet on particularly clear, cloudless nights, she often stepped outside her front door to stand on her porch and just stare up and out into the cosmos, as though she was looking to find something there. Something missing. Something important.

The pull tugged at her harder now, more insistently than she had ever felt it before. She let out a soft, sharp gasp at the sensation, and then, without even thinking about it – which was very un-Rachel-like – she opened the window, her eyes still set on the stars.

* * *

Quinn felt more than heard the movement, jolting awake and sitting up in bed instantly. Experience had taught her the benefits of being a light sleeper, so she didn't need any time to clear her head before assessing the situation in front of her.

"Rachel? What – what are you doing?" she asked softly, unable to keep the fear she felt out of her voice. It was warm in the room, even with the window open and a breeze curling around and past her best friend's small frame, but Quinn found herself shivering.

Her best friend's voice sounded very far away when it reached her ears.

"What am I doing? I'm finding out who I really am, Quinn."

"By falling out the window the night before a competition?"

Rachel laughed, stretching her arms forward and leaning halfway out the open window. "No, not falling. _Flying._ "

Quinn bolted from her bed, but she wasn't fast enough. No one could have been fast enough.

"Rachel, no! Get back from there! Come back!" she screamed into the wind that suddenly blew through the open space where Rachel had been.

* * *

Kara's eyes flew open and her heart raced when the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong struck her. She had taken up the Earth habit of sleeping after she'd been taken in by the Danvers family upon her late arrival to her new home world, but she didn't really need to sleep, not in the way humans did. The hours that humans spent sleeping was more of a quiet time for her, time to think and meditate, slowing down her brain and body to more fully process and analyze the events of the previous day. When the feeling came upon her, piercing her heart like a Kryptonite blade, she actually gasped at the sudden, terrifying realization of where she needed to go, and why.

In less than a second, she was in the costume and in the air, speeding toward the hotel where she'd spent an interesting day with a fascinating group of young people and their earnest, but obviously very caring teachers. Supergirl was the fastest woman on the planet, yet she still found herself worrying that she might not get there in time.

She'd never forgive herself if she was too late. Saving a planet or saving a single person, it was the same to her. She was acutely aware of the responsibility she had taken upon herself the moment she had decided to reveal herself to the world, the need to treat every situation with equal seriousness, and she was determined never to fail the world that had placed its trust in her, its faith in the shield she proudly wore upon her chest.

Kara blocked out every sight, every sound, everything around her as she cut through the National City sky like a bolt of red and blue lightning. The sprawling metropolis she called her home narrowed down to a single tower of gleaming metal and glass, and the tiny figure of a girl in the air, many stories above the ground. _No!_ She was falling, falling...

...and rising? Rising, and then standing still, as though suspended by an invisible wire, or held in the palm of a giant's hand.

The girl was Rachel Berry, and she was _smiling._ Smiling, then laughing out loud, as she hovered in the air, weightless, not hearing the voices of her teachers and teammates gathered on the roof of the hotel, all screaming at her, screaming at each other, waking the city as the first faint colors of dawn began to streak slowly across the horizon.

* * *

He-Who-Walks-in-Shadow grunted, rocked as though by a physical blow. _Such power! I have never felt its like._ The darkness around him eddied in whorls of impenetrable emptiness, roiling like storm clouds in a hurricane's wake.

 _The sleeper has awakened at last, and must be brought into the Shadow's embrace – or destroyed forever. We will either be saved by this one, or damned for all time. There are no other choices in it. This is known. This has been seen._

The red flame of the being's inhuman eyes, blazing with fervent belief in its mission, slashed through the inky dark surrounding it like claws drawn against a soft underbelly. Brightness bled through the gaping wounds for only a moment, before the darkness sealed itself up once more with threads of deepest black.

* * *

It was not very often that Supergirl, once sighted, was ignored by a gathered crowd; but Rachel Berry, clad in her modest powder blue pajamas, floating motionless in the warming early morning air above National City's grandest hotel, seemed to be all that anyone could see at the moment.

"Rachel!" the red-haired guidance counselor, Ms. Pillsbury, shouted, her normally soft voice straining to be heard above the continuous shocked chatter emanating from the gathered New Directions. "Come down here now! Please! You could get hurt...um...flying around like that!" The woman's normally wide eyes seemed even larger than normal, almost saucer-sized, as she stared at the short, dark-haired girl suspended in mid-air above the group.

"Seriously?" Santana scoffed, side-eyeing the petite, demure woman, who was frantically waving her arms like an airport worker trying to signal a plane to land on the tarmac. "I got this, Ms. P. Let me show you how it's done." She put two fingers in her mouth and blew out a sharp, shrill whistle. "Yo, Berry! Not that we're not impressed by your little acrobatic act here, but we can't win this competition with you out here and not on the stage. So get your little ass down here now, and _maybe_ I won't go all Lima Heights on it for waking me up in the middle of the night like this."

Rachel merely laughed again at Santana's words. Every cell in her body felt supercharged, as though replaced by microscopic million-volt batteries, her muscles swelling with newfound strength and power. She could not recall ever being more alive. Her vision was sharper, crisper, as though everything was in high definition. Her hearing, too, was extraordinarily acute – she could identify every single voice calling out to her, make out each word being said, every sound around her, no matter how quiet it was. Like Kurt, for instance, softly repeating "Oh my God" under his breath over and over again, or Mr. Schuester's heart pounding in his chest at the sight of his star performer actually _flying_ on the morning of their most important competition ever.

Or Quinn, barely breathing, terrified, tears glistening as they rolled down her perfect pale cheeks.

"Rachel," a new voice called. "Please. Your friends are worried about you. I think you should talk to them."

Now Rachel's eyes widened as she realized who the owner of this new voice was: a dirty blonde goddess in blue and red, looking at her with the same care and concern as her friends below. She took in the large stylized "S" on the chest of the woman in the air opposite her, and suddenly a key turned in the lock on a door inside her mind, a door which had been closed for a very long time. Now the door was thrown wide open, and all the memories she had kept hidden away, kept secret from herself, began to spill forth.

Memories of another world, another sun, another life she hadn't permitted herself to know anything about until this exact moment. The shock overwhelmed her. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she began to fall.

Kara caught her, cradled her gently as she brought her down to the roof. The entire Glee Club and their teachers surrounded them, murmuring to each other and themselves in shock and wonder. Kara gently admonished them to stand back, to give Rachel some air, and they reluctantly obeyed. None of them understood what they had just witnessed, not really - but they all knew that their lives would never be the same ever again.


	6. Chapter 6

**song and steel**

 _ **a Glee / Supergirl crossover event**_

 **chapter six**

The world was on fire.

At least, that was how it seemed to Rachel as she clung to her Tutor's arms, weeping as everything around her, all she had ever known, was being completely blown apart. There was a strange silence in the sealed, secured room that was completely at odds with the scenes of violence and destruction taking place outside the as-yet-unbroken windows of the Galaterium. Flame warred with ice, rain and snow and hail battered the world in a storm that howled with the pain of a world being ripped asunder. The city was being razed, building by building, block by block, square by square. Already the Princeptum, where the Ruling Council had once done their work, was so much smoke and rubble.

"Hush, child," the Tutor said softly, trying and failing to soothe the terrified girl who held on to her so tightly that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out with pain. "Ssh, don't look, don't look. You're all right, you're all right. I'm going to get you away from all of this." She adjusted her grip on Rachel, keeping the girl from slipping away and running off to gods-knew-where. With one hand she clutched the girl to her side, while she moved the fingers of the other in the complex, almost hypnotic language of the technomantic Code that was used to open the massive door behind which Rachel's salvation lay.

"We're almost there. Just a little further..." she murmured, slipping just a little as another explosion rocked the massive building to its core. The whole place was crumbling, falling to pieces with every blow. This, she knew, would be the final battle of the Interior War, the last, tragic conflict that would ultimately destroy the entire world. She hadn't needed to be a Visionary to know how the story of their planet was going to end; indeed, she cursed her ability for the bitter joke she knew it to be. What good was Farsight if all it told you was that hope was of no use, that all was lost – that everything was going to end, no matter what you did?

Well, not _everything._ She could make sure that this one precious child, this daughter of her heart if not her flesh, survived as the one remaining piece of good to come from this tortured, decaying ball of spinning stone and metal.

"Ah - !" she cried out, stumbling, falling, at the end of her strength after running so far, for so long. Soon the plexitum windows would shatter under the force of the blows raining down against them, and this, the highest level in the highest tower in all the world, would come crashing down, the last gasp of a realm in its death throes. Rachel spilled from her arms onto the gleaming crystal floor, fine cracks radiating all through it now as the storm outside raged out of control, feeding on its own fury. The Galaterium, crowning jewel of the planet's capital city, the most glorious structure ever raised in its history, was about to fall. It would not be long now.

 _The end will be a blessing,_ thought the Tutor. _Even the longest nightmare must eventually give way to sleep._

"I'm scared! Please, Tutor! Please hold me! I – I don't want to die alone!" Rachel wailed, reaching out to her beloved instructor. Memories of all the times they had shared, singing together under the high, curving branches of the senna trees outside the dome of her home, after lessons were over, in the soft, waning light just before star-set, flashed through her mind.

"Oh, child. You're not going to die," the Tutor chided her most beloved student. "Look." She pointed, and Rachel's gaze followed.

The Tutor smiled as Rachel's eyes went wide at the sight of the sleek, metallic form of the ship gleaming as it hovered above her in a halo of light. Its side rippled, opening an entrance just large enough for a small child. The girl opened her mouth, intending to question her Tutor, then snapped it shut as she was swept up in the woman's strong arms once again.

"In you go now, hurry. No struggling, you stubborn, willful child!" hissed the Tutor, almost falling over when the building rocked again; chunks of the ceiling rained down with the impact. One just narrowly missed her, while another glanced harmlessly off the ship's body.

Rachel squirmed and wriggled, trying to escape the Tutor's arms, not understanding what was happening. "No! What are you doing? Why are you pushing me away?" she screamed. Small but sharp nails scratched the Tutor's hands, her arms and face.

 _By the Fallen God, she's strong! May the ship find a world where she can thrive. A better world than this one._

"There's no more _time,_ little one!" the Tutor yelled, straining to be heard over the cacophonous chaos of the building's slow but sure disintegration. "I love you, Rachel. I hope you'll remember me one day, and not judge me too harshly."

With a final push, she got Rachel firmly into the ship, the inside soft and comfortable as a pillow, molding itself to her small body. The opening disappeared. Rachel's eyes were wide, uncomprehending, filled with terror, looking out through the small window at her. Heartbroken, but certain that she had done the right thing, the Tutor reached into Rachel's mind with a touch as gentle as a kiss, and Rachel fell asleep instantly.

She pressed her fingers to the craft's side, felt it hum in response.

 _You know what to do, Ship. I made you for this. Feed her mind and body. Keep her strong._

 _Yes,_ it replied. _Goodbye, Mother._

Tears burned in her eyes as the windows finally began to break.

 _There's no more time. Go now. GO!_

The hum became a roar in her mind, and then the ship and the girl were gone, shooting straight up through the half-open ceiling.

She felt, rather than heard, the heavy footfalls of the battle-crazed warriors as they came up behind her, the building shaking as the land convulsed beneath it. She recognized more than a few of them, but in their madness, they saw not her, the Tutor who had taught them at her knee, but simply another sack of meat, another body to kill, more flesh to sate their carnivorous hunger. A score of them died as she brought her power to bear upon them, screaming as she did. But they were many, and she was but one, and so, so tired. Exhaustion pressed down upon her, its weight nearly too heavy to bear, but she did not stop. If they loved death so much, she would give it to them. No, she would not stop. If nothing else, the world would die before she did.

The ship cried out silently when it felt its mother, and the world that had birthed them both, pass out of existence mere moments later. Its passenger felt nothing at all.

* * *

Rachel awoke with a headache, the feeling of spinning, and far too many eyes upon her - the eyes of people she had known for years, looking at her as though they had never seen her before. Which, in a way, they hadn't, she supposed. This was the first time they were seeing the _real_ her, the _true_ her. A Rachel Berry they didn't know. What they couldn't possibly understand was that the person at whom they were staring - some sympathetically, some accusingly, some with something like sadness or pity in their gaze – was someone she hadn't known either, until just now.

She had grown up here on this world with a certainty that she was destined to be something extraordinary, a certainty that others had always mistaken for ego or self-absorption. She had lived with the strange feeling that there was a second soul that moved within her, the shade of her future self, beckoning her on into a future in which she was assured of greatness. _Why_ shouldn't _I feel that way?_ she would ask her fathers after yet another school day filled with taunts and torments and hard, cruel words. _Shouldn't_ everyone _feel that way about themselves?_

And her fathers, who were kind and gentle men, would sadly shake their heads and say, "Not everybody does, Rachel." Then they would explain - yet again - that the human impulse, when confronted by greatness, is to either admire it or attempt to tear it down. To feel inspired and uplifted, or to feel jealous and insecure. It struck her then, oddly, that the patience they had shown her over the years was heroic in its own right. She hadn't exactly been an easy child to raise, coming to them at just six (human) years of age, unable to remember anything of her life before then. She couldn't recall her parents' names, or their faces, or where they had lived.

Now, after all these years, Rachel finally understood why. When the ship that had carried her the incalculable distance between her home world and this one had ended their long journey by crashing into a (thankfully empty) supermarket parking lot in the center of Lima, its final dying act had been to suppress her memories so that she could grow up unburdened by the trauma of seeing everyone and everything she had loved completely destroyed. So that she could love this world and call it home without feeling guilty about surviving the destruction of the one she'd left behind.

A bright fragment of memory suddenly kindled in her mind - the ship, speaking its last words to her, just before it dissolved into a puddle of liquid metal at her feet: _One day, when you have need of them, and this world has need of you, your memories will return. When you know who you are, you will know what you can do, and then you will begin walking the path toward your ultimate destiny. When that day comes, all that came before will seem as a dream. Until then, be strong. Live. Thrive. I go now to join my mother. Goodbye, Rachel._

They'd found her – the Lima police and fire department, sirens screaming, uniformed men and women calling out to each other in urgent voices - crying silently in the middle of a crater of ruined black asphalt not long after that, a small child with large, luminous brown eyes and long, dark silken hair, repeating the same four words over and over again to the short, bespectacled, kind-faced man who looked down at her with the moonlight framing him in soft, silver light: "My name is Rachel." The language in which she'd spoken was one of an innumerable number she'd learned during her voyage between the worlds, but it sounded to the man as though she'd been speaking it all her young life.

And he'd said: "Hello, Rachel. My name is Hiram Berry. We need to get you away from here. Will you please come with me?"

She'd taken his hand then, large and warm and comforting, the feeling reminding her vaguely of something she couldn't remember. Something that had been pushed into a dark and silent corner of her mind, where it would remain behind a locked door for ten years, as the people of this world measured time. Ten years in which she grew up, and grew to love the man named Hiram Berry and his husband Leroy, and came to call them her fathers with fierce pride.

 _When you have need of them, and this world has need of you, your memories will return._

Voices came to her then, the tones and cadences as familiar as the music of a thousand songs.

"Rachel! Rachel, are you all right? You scared us all half to death!" Quinn was kneeling beside her, shouting, tears streaming down her impossibly beautiful face, hugging herself with a frantic, almost delirious terror.

"Yeah, short stack," Santana interjected. "What the _hell_ were you doing? And how the hell were you _doing_ it?"

A chorus of frightened, bewildered voices erupted loudly, each one straining to be heard above the others.

She opened her mouth to reply, to calm and reassure everyone gathered around her, but then another voice, strong and commanding, not as familiar, cut her off: "Stand back, all of you. Please. Give her some space. She needs a little time."

A collective murmur of frustrated protest sounded from the small crowd gathered around her, but they did as they were asked, backing away from Rachel, who lay on the rough, hard surface of the hotel roof, her head resting comfortably on a pair of strong legs.

 _Rachel_ , the person holding her said, and somehow Rachel knew that they were speaking at a frequency that only the two of them could hear. _We need to talk. Later, after you've rested._

She startled herself then by replying at the same frequency, inaudible to human ears: _I know. I'm not sure how much I can tell you, though. So many things make sense now, but there's still a lot I don't understand._

 _I'll do everything I can to help you. I promise._

Pushing herself more upright, she turned so that she could look into the face of the person who, she now realized, had rescued her when her brain had shorted out. A wide smile broke across her face when her eyes met those of Kara Danvers, framed by soft waves of strawberry blonde hair.

Or, as she was known when dressed in the blue and red costume she wore now: _Supergirl._


	7. Chapter 7

**song and steel**

 _ **a Glee / Supergirl crossover event**_

 **chapter seven**

As she found herself blushing under the heat of Rachel's knowing gaze, things began to fall into place for Kara. Suddenly, she understood why the petite singer had so unnerved her since the moment they'd met. It wasn't that they were so different – it was that they were so _alike._ With Rachel's small, warm hand on her cheek, her mind was suddenly flooded with images that told Kara the story of who Rachel really was, and where she had come from. Frenzied, chaotic scenes of violence and destruction, a civil war that had raged out of control in an ever-escalating spiral of fury and hate until an entire world was consumed in a horrifying conflagration, leaving no trace of its existence - except for a solitary starcraft speeding through the trackless void between galaxies, carrying its only surviving offspring, asleep through uncountable light-years of travel.

 _I know I'm the only one,_ Rachel's voice said. _The ship was monitoring my planet for any other departing vessels, hoping to link them together with us, but..._ She paused, gathering herself, searching for the strength to somehow accept the truth of these long-suppressed memories. _The few that managed to launch after mine were caught in the explosion and completely destroyed. Apparently the two sides in the civil war each had doomsday weapons which they'd sworn they would never use...and yet they did._

Another pause. Kara felt the girl tremble against her as she sobbed, finally crying the tears denied her for so long, in mourning for her vanished world, grieving for all she had lost. For all the memories that had been locked away so that she could build a new life on this world, this life that she loved so much.

After a few moments, she wiped at her eyes, sniffled and took a few deep breaths, obviously needing a little time before she could go on. The New Directions and their teachers looked on, puzzled by the silent conversation that was clearly taking place between their star performer and the costumed superhero. A look from Supergirl clearly warned them not to interrupt, that what was happening now was vitally important for Rachel. Mr. Schuester received the message, and motioned for the group to remain calm and quiet.

Rachel's telepathic voice was soft but raw, hollow with anguish. It reminded Kara of the way she herself had sounded years ago when she'd talked with her adoptive sister Alex about the tragedy of Krypton's destruction for the very first time.

 _The ship speculated that the weapons might have been set off accidentally somehow, that no one had actually_ chosen _to use them...in any case, they were in fact used, and that was ultimately what killed my world. My teacher. My family. My friends. Everything I knew and loved. All of it, gone in an instant, without even so much as a speck of dust left. I – I still can't remember my parents' faces, or their names...all I can remember is that they were good to me, and that - that they loved me. And that my teacher put me on that ship because they...they couldn't. Because by that time, they were already dead._

Kara's heart ached for Rachel. She knew only too well that what the girl was feeling. The weight of all these memories, the agonizing pain of loss, was crushing. If it hadn't been for her adoptive parents and sister...she couldn't imagine how she could have survived without them. And yet, even they hadn't been able to fill the void left in her soul by the destruction of her birth world and family. Thus, she had long ago come to the conclusion that nothing ever would, and she would just have to learn to live with that wound for the rest of her life.

Until now.

Somehow, this Rachel Berry, with her deep, soulful eyes and winning smile, had now stolen her way into her life, and with the revelation of her true identity as another displaced daughter of a destroyed world, instantly become the only person with whom Kara could truly share her own pain and sadness. The only person who could understand her sorrow, her rage, the animating fire that had led her to become a shield against anything and everything that could threaten her second home world.

There was no way she could have saved Krypton – but she would be damned to every hell there was if she wasn't going to do all that was within her power to defend this one.

And now, maybe – just maybe – Earth had another hero, another protector. If she could just guide Rachel the same way the Danvers family had helped her to deal with her feelings when she had come to them...yes. She swore that Rachel was not going to go through this alone. Not as long as she was around.

Kara rose with Rachel in her arms, looking to the huddled crowd of people standing silently before them, with worried faces and troubled hearts. Each of them, she knew, cared deeply for Rachel in their own way. She could see it clearly in the emotions that swirled in each pair of staring eyes.

"Everybody," she said in a firm, yet gentle tone, "Rachel has been through a lot tonight. I...I don't know if she's going to be able to join you for the competition."

"NO!" Rachel shouted in all their minds then, a thunderbolt striking out of the blue. They all clutched at their heads in shock and pain, except for Kara – and even she had barely been able to prepare for the sudden invasion.

"No," she said again, this time with her regular voice. "Sorry. I – I'll need to learn how to control that. Ka – I mean, Supergirl. I know you mean well, that you feel I need to rest and recover after tonight's...events, but I'm fine. There's no way I'm going to let my team down, especially not when they need me the most. We've all worked far too hard to get here. I'm going on that stage no matter what."

"Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury said, surprising everyone as she stepped out from behind Mr. Schuester's protective stance to take Rachel's hands in her own. "Are you sure? I mean, I can't even begin to pretend to know what happened here, but we can all see that whatever it was, it took a lot out of you. Yes, the team needs you – but it needs you at your best. Can you really say you're going to be able to perform to your usual standard after all of this?"

"We'll totally understand if you can't," Brittany piped up. "Santana or Tina or Mercedes can sing your parts, or even Kurt. Nobody here is going to think less of you if you don't go on."

Mrs. Pillsbury stepped back as Quinn came forward, her eyes red from crying, her voice smaller and quieter than anyone had ever heard it when she spoke.

"You...you nearly died tonight, Rachel. If Supergirl hadn't shown up when she did...I...I don't know what we would have done. I don't know what _I_ would do...if I lost you."

Rachel took Quinn into her arms, holding her in a tender embrace. The taller girl relished the closeness, after feeling so distant from her best friend earlier. And yet...Rachel felt different to her now. It felt to Quinn though Rachel was holding her more gently, as though the pint-sized diva was afraid she would break. And Rachel's body felt different in her arms, too; much firmer, more solid. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe her tired mind was playing tricks on her, but she could swear that the girl had put on ten pounds of muscle somehow.

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel said. "It's lovely of you to say that, but if I'd fallen...I wouldn't have died. I told you that I was finding out who I really am, and apparently I'm much tougher than that."

Quinn stepped back, her face clearly showing her puzzlement at Rachel's words. "What? I don't understand. What do you mean?"

Looking back at Kara for a split-second before meeting Quinn's questioning gaze, Rachel chose her words carefully before she replied. "Supergirl is known as the Girl of Steel. I...I'm made from a similar alloy, as it turns out."

Before anyone else could respond, Brittany squealed with delight. "You mean you're part robot, like Artie?"

The silence that followed was deafening, until Rachel let out a much-needed laugh. Everyone else joined in, completely dispelling the tension.

 _Thank you, Brittany,_ she said in the cheerleader's mind. _But to answer your question: no, I'm not part robot. Sorry._

"Whoa!" Brittany exclaimed. "That was really cool." She turned to Santana, who looked at her with a completely baffled expression. "She thanked me in my head. Isn't that called...telephony?"

"Telepathy," Blaine corrected, earning a glare from Santana. Then Kurt turned to Rachel with a worried look. "Wait - can you read our minds?"

"I don't think that's an appropriate question to ask, Kurt -" Mr. Schuester began, but he was cut off by Shelby Corcoran.

"No. Let him speak. I think we all need to know what else Rachel can do," she said in a tone that clearly meant she would brook no opposition on the subject.

Kara instantly turned her attention to the woman, who was looking at the boy with a curiously intense expression. It occurred to Kara that Shelby actually resembled Rachel a great deal. Why had she not noticed that before?

"Yeah. I don't know if I want short-stack there in my head all the time," Santana said grimly. "No offense, Rachel. You know I like you, but that's just way too personal."

Rachel looked again to Kara, biting her lip in a clear sign of uncertainty. She felt strangely pleased that the girl was already looking to her for guidance. She nodded slightly, signaling that it was a good idea to quell any apprehensions the team might have about Rachel right here and now.

"Kurt, Santana, all of you - I assure you that while I do possess telepathic abilities, I would never enter any of your minds for the purpose of reading your thoughts without your express permission. That would be a violation of the worst sort, and one that I would not commit except in an extreme emergency."

"The spank bank is safe," Puck sighed with relief.

Tina and Mercedes both smacked him, one on the right arm, one on the left. "Shut up, Puckerman," Mercedes growled. "Pervert!" Tina hissed.

"Ow! What? Bros, help me out here?" the Mohawk-haired boy protested, holding out his hands in a pleading gesture. "Tell me you haven't already had a million thoughts about what it would be like to do it in mid-air!"

"Mailman! Mailman! Mailman!" Finn chanted, suddenly leaning forward to cover himself. Sam and Mike looked at each other with confused expressions, then burst out laughing. Artie rolled himself away from Finn, scrunching his face up in distaste.

"God, you guys are idiots," said Kitty, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. It was way too late – or early – for this. "Anyway, so you can annoy us with your voice in a whole new way, Berry. That's good to know," she snarked. "But like Ms. Corcoran said: what _else_ can you do?"

Kara suddenly felt uneasy at the way Shelby Corcoran was looking at Rachel. Her expression was one of intense interest, beyond simple human curiosity. It was almost...hungry.

"Rachel," she said. "You don't have to go into all this now. It can wait until tomorrow."

"No, it can't," Shelby said flatly. "We can't go into the competition being distracted by all the questions we have about Rachel. She's always been completely honest with us, and now is not the time for her to change that." Her eyes softened then, along with her tone. "Sweetheart, listen to me. I know this must be terribly difficult for you, but once everything is out in the open, it will be easier for all of us to move on and return our focus to where it should be: on the competition. You understand that, right?"

"Shelby, I'm not certain I agree with that. Look at her," said Emma Pillsbury, wringing her hands nervously. "She's clearly been traumatized by whatever happened tonight. Why don't you just let her be and let everyone get back to sleep? We can discuss this in the morning."

"With all due respect, Ms. P, I'm way too curious to even think about sleeping now," Artie disagreed, wheeling himself toward Rachel, then reversing course at the fierce glare Quinn directed his way. Kara didn't miss the protective stance the beautiful blonde girl had taken next to her friend.

Neither did Shelby.

"Me too," Sam said, accepting a high-five from the bespectacled boy, who grinned up at him from his wheelchair.

"Me three," agreed Brittany, causing Santana to helplessly roll her eyes at her girlfriend, as if to say, _Really? -_ but remained silent otherwise.

Rachel sighed. "Oh, all right. I suppose it couldn't hurt anything if I told you. You'll all find out sooner or later anyway."

The New Directions took a collective breath, at once excited and fearful, curious and bursting with questions. Shelby looked on with burning interest, while Mr. Schuester held Ms. Pillsbury close with one arm, as though trying to guard her against whatever was going to happen next.

(Which drew an amused smile from Supergirl, standing behind Rachel as Quinn reluctantly moved to rejoin the group, clearly unhappy at having to leave Rachel's side.)

"Well? You going to get on with it or what?" Mercedes barked impatiently, her bravado belied by the fact that she was clutching Tina's hand hard enough to make the Asian girl wince in pain.

A mischievous gleam sparkled in Rachel's eye as that familiar 'show smile' broke across her face. "As our favorite substitute, Ms. Holliday, was always fond of saying: I thought you'd _never_ ask."


	8. Chapter 8

**song and steel**

 _a Glee / Supergirl crossover event_

 _ **chapter eight**_

Kara stiffened with concern for Rachel. Her urgent thought was read by the shorter girl, although it would only have taken a look at the grave expression on the Kryptonian's face to tell what was on her mind, without the need for telepathy.

 _You don't actually know..._ _ **everything**_ _you can do yet, do you? I mean, you only just remembered that you even_ _ **have**_ _powers._

Rachel's show smile faltered for only a second. _This is true,_ she sent back. _But if anything goes wrong, you're here to save me, right? Like my own personal guardian angel._

Kara couldn't help but allow a small smile to quirk her lips upward at the girl's flirtatiousness, even in the midst of this most unusual situation. She felt her heart skip a beat in spite of the knowledge that it wasn't Rachel who might be in danger here, but the rest of the New Directions, their teachers, and the neighborhood around them.

 _It's not you I'm worried about, Rachel - it's everyone else. When I first started flying, I crashed right through our neighbor's window, and my sister had to cover for me by throwing a baseball into his house right after it happened, so he'd think we broke the window playing ball. And that's so not even the worst thing that could have happened. If I'd been practicing my heat vision, I could have set the whole place on fire!_

Rachel's thought-giggle tickled Kara's mind in answer. _That's why I'm not going to start with the heat vision._

And before Kara could even form another thought with which to respond, Rachel was unbuttoning her pajama top, revealing a sports bra beneath it, to show an impressively sculpted upper body. Gasps and whistles of shock and amazement went up from the small gathering at the sight of the petite singer's newly muscled arms and rippling six-pack abs.

" _Damn,_ Berry," Santana husked, her eyes hungrily devouring Rachel's physique. " _Love_ the new look."

Brittany licked her lips in agreement. "Hot. Totally."

Kara didn't miss the angry look Quinn leveled at the two cheerleaders, who were completely oblivious as they continued to shamelessly ogle Rachel's body.

"Wow!" Tina exclaimed. "If I'd known that a half-hour on the elliptical every morning could do _that,_ I would have asked my parents to get me one a long time ago." She turned to Sam and Mike. "Looks like you guys need to do more crunches," she said with a wink.

"So now the dwarf's got muscles," Kitty groaned. "That doesn't necessarily mean -"

And then Rachel lifted her off the ground with one hand, while holding Artie and his wheelchair in the other.

"Hey! Put me down!" Kitty cried out in protest, while Artie just laughed at the cheerleader's reaction.

"Me next! Me next!" Brittany said, raising her hand. "I love rides."

"Oh, I've got a ride for you, Britt," Rachel smiled, loving the attention, the admiring stares. Even Ms. Pillsbury's already wide eyes had nearly popped out of her head when she had stripped off her top. "Everybody up!"

With that, the entire contingent of New Directions, excluding the ones balanced literally in the palms of her hands, began to float in the air as though they had suddenly become weightless.

"Holy crap!" shouted Puck. "This is awesome! But – how are you doing this?"

"It's called _telekinesis,_ Noah. Defined as the ability to move objects through the use of one's mental energy. An ability, it occurs to me, that will greatly aid me in multi-tasking in the future."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Mercedes moaned. _Like it's not enough that Berry can sing better than everyone else – now she has freaking super powers too_? _**So**_ _not fair!_ she thought glumly.

Sam and Blaine laughed aloud as the group continued to rise higher into the air. "This is _totally_ like _Avatar!"_ Sam stated firmly. Blaine shook his head vehemently in disagreement. "No, no – it's like Rachel's a Jedi, and she's just mastered the Force!"

"Rachel!" Mr. Schue called out. He looked vaguely green, as though he'd eaten something that _really_ didn't agree with him. "I – I think you can put everybody down now. We've seen enough."

"Very well," said Rachel. She had to force herself not to laugh at the teacher's sickly expression. "I'm just getting started anyway."

"You mean there's...there's more?" Finn asked with a tinge of fear coloring his voice.

"Oh, yes. It's all coming back to me now, as the song goes. It turns out that suppressed memories return very quickly once the block against them is removed."

 _Are...are you sure about this, Rachel?_ Kara asked, projecting the concern she felt for the girl through her thought-sending.

 _Yes. I appreciate the concern, but it's true - it really_ _ **is**_ _coming back to me with remarkable speed._

"Quinn," Rachel said, once she had lowered all the New Directions safely to the roof's surface. "Would you come here, please?"

The beautiful blonde blinked, then cast her eyes down, biting her lip, trying to hide the obvious pleasure she felt at being singled out. The blush that colored her fair cheeks told the tale, though, when she raised her head and stepped forward to meet Rachel, along with the way her eyes took in the shorter girl's new appearance.

"You look _amazing,"_ Quinn whispered, her voice low and breathy, intended to be pitched so that only Rachel would hear – but of course, Kara's alien auditory sense was every bit as acute as the young singer's, and she heard not only the words, but the quickened pulse that accompanied them. Internally, she batted away the sudden strange irritation she felt as she watched Rachel embrace Quinn in a tender hug, heard her whisper a _thank you_ back.

" _Ow!"_ Quinn gasped. "Could you maybe, um, _not_ hug me so hard? I think you might have bruised a rib or two. God, you really _are_ super-strong."

Rachel jumped back, a look of horror on her face. "I'm so _sorry,_ Quinn!" she yelped. "I didn't mean to _hurt_ you -"

"Relax, Rachel. It's okay. I'm all right – just...just a little winded is all." Quinn smiled, clearly trying to reassure the smaller girl. It wasn't until she reached out to take Rachel's hand that the tension of the moment was dispelled, and the smile was returned.

"Don't scare me like that!" Rachel pouted, but there was no real bite to the words, and each girl knew the other truly was all right, especially when Quinn laughed at her friend's expression. "Now, I need you to help me to demonstrate another of my abilities. As you've just shown everyone here, I am _quite_ solid -"

"You sure _are,"_ Santana interrupted, and no one missed the way her already dark eyes grew even more shadowed as she spoke.

"Santana!" Emma suddenly exclaimed, surprising everyone; the red-headed guidance counselor had been so quiet through everything that they'd all forgotten she was even there. "Please stop being inappropriate. We are all trying to _learn_ here."

"I'm not sure she'd want to learn what Santana could teach her," Puck mumbled under his breath to Artie, who had to cover his mouth with both hands to stifle the laughter that threatened to burst forth.

"You too, Puck," Rachel commanded. At the boy's look of complete shock, she pointed to her ear and said simply, "Super hearing."

"Jeez," Puck muttered sullenly, drawing satisfied smirks from the girls at the way he'd been chastened. Tina and Mercedes surreptitiously low-fived each other, while Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine. Even Kara allowed herself a small smile. "How many freakin' powers do you _have,_ anyway?" he asked, desperate to redirect the group's attention away from himself and back onto Rachel.

"Just a few more. Now, as I was saying, I am quite solid at the moment. Quinn, if you would hug me again?"

Quinn blinked in confusion. "Um, what now? How would that -" she began, but Rachel gently cut her off by placing a hand on her shoulder.

" _Please,_ Quinn. Just...just trust me," she said.

Shrugging, Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel in another warm embrace, enjoying the feel of the smaller girl's body against her own – until that compact frame suddenly became as insubstantial as smoke, or the wind.

"What the _hell?!_ " she exclaimed, completely bewildered. She could just make out the faint outline of Rachel's form in front of her, but somehow the other girl had become – a _ghost?_

"Intangibility," Rachel's voice sounded from seemingly out of nowhere. "I have complete control over my body's density and molecular structure. I can phase through solid matter at will - yet my skin's natural, normal density is actually hard enough that it's impenetrable anyway, even though it feels soft like yours."

"Does that mean you're, like, bullet-proof?" Mike asked, scratching his head in befuddlement, perplexed by the fact that he was speaking to someone he could barely see.

"The technical term is _invulnerable,_ Michael," Rachel answered, resuming her normal form as she did so. "And yes, I suppose I am." She noticed that Quinn's mouth was slightly agape in awe, and realized that her friends, all of them, were beginning to see her as something _other,_ someone different than the person they'd known and interacted with for all these years.

And she found that she didn't like the way that made her feel.

Rachel didn't want them to think of her as being _above_ them; she was still the same caring, determined, focused, talented and yes, occasionally bossy and demanding person she'd always been. She still loved singing and dancing and just being around all of these people, whom she'd come to cherish as something of a second family, and now she found herself worried, because she didn't want to lose that. She didn't want to lose the closeness she'd developed with each and everyone of the people before whom she was standing now, on top of the largest hotel in all of National City, the night before the biggest competition of the year.

Suddenly she felt lost and afraid and very much _alone_ as they all stared at her, waiting for her next trick, as though she were a magician performing her act.

Kara instantly sensed Rachel's discomfort, knew exactly what the girl was feeling, because she herself had felt the same way the very first time she'd revealed her powers to a friend. She'd seen the same look in her friend's eyes that she was seeing in the eyes of some of the New Directions now, a combination of fear and wonder, uncertainty and amazement. While some were admiring, like Tina, Sam, Blaine, Mike, Artie and - to an extreme - Santana and Brittany, others were discomfited, clearly at a loss as to how to deal with the fact of this new "Super-Rachel," like Mercedes, Kitty, Puck, Finn and even Quinn.

Even Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury, the grown-ups who were older and wiser, supposedly there to give guidance and direction to this group of young people, were obviously shaken by everything they'd just witnessed, unsure how to handle not only the kids' questions, but their own.

And then Shelby Corcoran spoke once again, derailing Kara's train of thought with a most unexpected question.

"Rachel, how old are you?" the woman asked quietly, obviously aware that something was going on inside Rachel, although she wasn't sure what. "I mean, how old are you _really?_ In the Earth year equivalent of how time is...was...reckoned on your birth world."

The girl's eyes took on a faraway look and misted with tears. The full, crushing realization of the truth of her existence was bearing down upon her now; she was actually trembling a little, and it was clear that she was fighting the desire to just break down and cry, even with everyone watching her.

"Um...yes. My people...aged differently from humans. Time did not affect us, pass for us, on our world, as it does for you," she said, looking directly at her friends now with a plea for understanding shining in her eyes, still bright with unshed tears. "While I look to you like a typical, albeit small for her age, sixteen year old girl - but I'm actually the equivalent of twenty-two Earth years old."

Suddenly Kitty lunged forward, easily evading Finn's clumsy attempt at restraining her. "Wait a minute now, hold up!" she said, biting off each word angrily as she stepped into Rachel's personal space, poked an outraged finger at her chest. "You actually mean to tell us that you're really the same age as a college graduate, but you're still in high school? How...how is that even legal?"

Quinn stepped around her, trying to get between Rachel and the diminutive cheerleader. " _Hey!_ Back off, Wilde!"

Kitty rounded on Quinn, her pretty, moon-shaped face reddening with anger. " _Or what,_ Quinn? Your freak show E.T. girlfriend here is gonna vaporize me with her heat vision? Turn me into an ice pop with her freeze breath? Or maybe she'll just flick a pinky and break every bone in my poor little normal Earth girl body?"

"She won't have to do any of that if you don't step back, Kitty, because I'll take care of you myself!" Quinn hissed. Whatever internal conflicts she might have felt inside where Rachel was concerned vanished instantly when Kitty appeared to threaten her.

Rachel understood why Kitty was lashing out, and why Quinn was lashing out right back; both were frightened by the way their world had been completely, irrevocably changed this night. It was one thing to meet Supergirl, who was as familiar to them as any other figure they'd seen on television for the last several years – but it was quite another to learn that their own teammate, their friend and star performer, was someone completely different from the person they'd known since childhood.

Kara sensed Rachel's hurt and fear, remembered her own from that day so many years ago, but found she was at a loss as to how to help her. She hated feeling helpless, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her that if anyone was equal to the task of overcoming a situation like this, it was Rachel. So she stayed silent, watching carefully; if she was needed, she would do whatever was necessary to protect everyone from harm in this emotionally volatile atmosphere.

Rachel blinked, startled by Kitty's aggression and Quinn's equally forceful defense. She wasn't about to let either one of them hurt the other. She knew what she had to do.

She used the Voice of Command, her true voice, the one that would have marked her as one destined to lead on her world, and at the sound of it, every person on that rooftop stiffened to immediate attention.

"Katherine, Quinn - _stop._ Stop this _right now_. You're my friends. I'm your friend. I love you both. I love all of you. I won't have you – _any of you –_ fighting with each other, especially if _I'm_ the reason you're fighting."

Kitty glared at her. Rachel read the fear in her eyes even as her fists unclenched and her arms fell to her sides. Modulating her voice, she let her care, her love and compassion, flow into the sound of it as she pleaded with the other girl.

"Katherine, please. Listen to me. We've known each other forever. I let you use my shovel in the sandbox at the playground, finger painted beside you in kindergarten. You _know_ me, even though you've spent years telling everyone how much you dislike me. I'm still the same person, okay? Yes, I can do all the things I've shown you here, and yes, I _also_ have heat vision and freeze breath and super-speed, but knowing that now hasn't changed who I am _inside_. That's what's most important, not all that other stuff. You understand that, don't you? You all understand that I'm still _Rachel Berry,_ right?"

Kitty Wilde hadn't cried in front of a group of people outside of her family until she'd joined the Glee Club. Her cheerleading coach would have her letterman's jacket and uniform in a heartbeat if she ever saw Kitty show the kind of vulnerability she was about to show now.

She threw herself into Rachel's strong arms and buried her face into her neck, smothering her sobs in Rachel's thick, dark hair.

"I'm...I'm so _scared._ I don't...I don't know...what any of this _means!"_ she gasped out between great, heaving sobs, as Rachel gently held her, rubbing soothing circles at the small of her back.

The rest of the New Directions stepped forward, some with tears in their eyes, like Kurt, Tina, and even Mr. Schuester, and they all joined together in a giant group hug, an expression of solidarity even in the face of massive, wrenching, unexpected change.

Two sets of eyes merely watched the group, and each other: the eyes of Kara Zor-El, also known as Kara Danvers, also known as Supergirl, last daughter of Krypton; and those of Shelby Corcoran, Glee Club co-advisor of McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio, woman of Earth – and, Kara, suspected, something more. Something else. She was sure of that.

Exactly _what_ , she wasn't sure just yet.


	9. Chapter 9

**song and steel** _a Glee / Supergirl crossover event_

 _ **chapter nine**_

The stage that dominated the enormous Grand Ballroom in the center of National City's finest hotel was larger than any of the New Directions contingent had imagined possible. They're used to the smaller stages of high school auditoriums and suburban rental halls. Once or twice they've competed on the stages of local colleges and universities - and been awed by the size of those rooms - but never before had they seen the likes of the magnificent lights, curtains and staging offered to them here in National City.

"Holy shit," Puck breathed from somewhere behind Rachel as they filed into the place, while others – even the adults – _oohed, ahhed_ and made other noises of appreciation at the room's opulence. They'd been rehearsing in another, smaller – but still beautiful – space elsewhere in the hotel, while a few final, last-minute technical details were being ironed out here in the Grand Ballroom, and their minds were suddenly reeling at the idea of performing on a stage that big in a room this size. For some of them – most of them, actually – it was a daunting concept.

But for Rachel, it was a glimpse into her future. Or, at least, the future she'd envisioned for herself before the previous night. Before she'd remembered who and what she truly was.

Quinn, walking beside Rachel, noticed the thoughtful look on the shorter girl's face and leaned into her. She nudged Rachel's shoulder to get her attention, then whispered in her ear. "Hey – are you all right? You're looking kinda far away there."

A soft smile spread across Rachel's face, warming them both. "I'm fine. It's just...there was a time when a stage like this was all I ever wanted, everything I ever dreamed about. And now...now it feels as though that was someone else's dream." She paused. Quinn nodded, knowing that Rachel needed a moment to gather her thoughts. "I still have that desire, somewhere inside me, but it's – it's like something else is crowding it, pushing it aside. I'm still the same person, but I'm not. Now I can feel a different dream taking shape. I always thought that the way I would change people's lives was through singing and acting and entertaining..."

Rachel's voice trailed off. Another pause. Quinn watched her closely, worried that Rachel might very well burst into tears right here at the site of what could be the glee club's greatest triumph ever – but then a slight grin quirked up the corners of Rachel's mouth. In another moment, it broadened, lighting up her entire face, and Quinn's concern for her instantly evaporated.

"Don't you _see,_ Quinn? Now I can do so much more!" Rachel's infectious laugh reverberated throughout the ballroom, startling the rest of the group. Quinn found herself laughing along. Enthusiasm increased the volume of Rachel's voice as she continued, taking both of Quinn's hands in hers. "Yes, I can still sing and dance and everything I did before, but now – now I can fly, literally. I can bend steel with my bare hands! I can lift a bus! Rescue a plane in mid-air, before it crashes. With these powers, there's no limit to the ways I can help people. I...I can change the world, like – like _Supergirl!_ "

Quinn frowned. It wasn't like she wasn't happy that Rachel had rediscovered her past and realized who she truly was, but comparing herself to _Supergirl?_ Already? That kind of overconfidence could be very dangerous, and she didn't want to see Rachel – or anyone else – suffer because of it.

"What?" Rachel asked. "This isn't quite the reaction I'd expected."

"Rachel, sweetie. Listen to yourself," Quinn said, carefully, not wanting to upset the other girl. "You've known about your powers for, what, a few hours? Yes, they're spectacular, and you should absolutely be very proud of them – but honestly, you've got a long way to go before you're in Supergirl's league."

"I hate to say it, Rachel, but Quinn's got a point," Artie said as he rolled over to them. "Supergirl's been doing what she does for a while now, and even _she's_ not perfect at it. You need to slow down. You're not ready to save the world just yet."

"It's like you always tell us," Tina chimed in. "Training is everything. You've had a ton of vocal training, dance training, acting classes. That's why you're the best performer we've got."

"Hey!" came a chorus of resentful voices – Kurt, Mercedes and Santana – as the rest of the group converged upon them. Brittany just shrugged, blowing a bubble as she wondered what would happen if a sea monster and a pterodactyl ever got into a fight.

"I'm sorry, guys, but it's true," Tina said, with a contrite look back at her teammates. "All I'm saying is that if you really want to use your powers to do good in the world, you've got to train yourself to use them correctly."

"Yeah, Rachel," Puck agreed. "Believe it or not, I wasn't always this badass. Granted, I started off being way cooler than the rest of you losers, but I still had to work up to this level of awesomeness."

A blush colored Rachel's olive-toned cheeks at her teammates' words, and she ducked her head to hide it. "You're right, all of you. I was getting a little ahead of myself there. You know me – I want everything too much, and I want it all right away."

"You've got plenty of time to become America's next superhero, Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury softly interjected. "If that's really what you want to be, we'll all support you in every way we can."

Mr. Schuester cleared his throat, causing everyone's head to swivel in his direction. The glee club advisor pointed to his watch with a grim expression on his boyishly handsome face. "In the meantime, guys, we only have a limited amount of time to rehearse, and a competition to win just a few hours from now. I suggest we table this discussion, Rachel - if that's all right with you - and get back to business."

"Of course," Rachel replied, blushing harder. "Let's do this."

Quinn slipped her hand into Rachel's, letting her know that everything was all right, and both girls smiled at the warmth of the touch. Still, Quinn couldn't resist an opportunity to further bring Rachel back down to Earth a little.

"Thanks for not flying us up here," she said as they walked up the stairs leading to the stage. "I might have gotten a little airsick."

Rachel stamped her foot as soon as they were on the stage and unleashed her most lethal pout.

" _Quinn!"_

The blonde ex-cheerleader could only laugh helplessly as she gathered Rachel into her arms for an affectionate embrace. "Sorry," she whispered into her ear. "I couldn't help myself."

"I hate you a little bit right now," Rachel replied, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she melted into the hug, grateful that her best friend wasn't afraid to rein her in when needed, even now, knowing about her powers and all.

"No, you don't. You love me."

"Lucky for you, Lucy Quinn Fabray," Rachel teased as she finally stepped back and out of the other girl's arms, laughing at the way Quinn's eyes widened at the use of her real first name, which no one but her mother was allowed to ever use, and even then only in private.

"All right, everybody, stop dawdling! Get into line, NOW!" The voice of Shelby Corcoran cracked like a whip, and immediately, the New Directions ceased milling about the stage and hustled into formation for their first number. Whatever else she was, the woman was a demanding taskmaster who knew how to get the best out of her students, and they knew better than to make her repeat herself. Her lips quirked up into a thin, humorless smile at the quickness with which the New Directions had moved.

"Show faces on, people. From the top, in one – two – three – _GO._ "

* * *

The rehearsal went by in a blur. Despite their tiredness, or maybe because of it (the hotel's excellent coffee might deserve some credit as well), the New Directions performed with a buzzy intensity. Their movements were tight, but somehow loose too, their limbs flowing in a harmony that was nearly as perfect as the blending of their voices. Mike, Brittany and Santana, the group's best dancers, were almost flawless, and the rest of the group took its cue from them. Even Finn and Sam, not known for their physical grace on the stage, seemed to have stepped up their game. Vocally, the team sounded better than ever; Kurt and Mercedes smiled widely at Rachel as they harmonized together, and even Kitty and Quinn shared a genuine hug at the end of it all. Santana's embrace of Rachel, however, lasted a few seconds too long for pure camaraderie's sake, the shorter girl acutely aware of the cheerleader's hands roaming up and down the hard curves of her muscled back and arms. Her eyes became saucer-like when Santana took the liberty of letting her wandering hands come to rest on her backside, and she let out a loud gasp at the unexpected touch - at which point Quinn took notice.

" _Santana,"_ she hissed, using the dangerously icy tone that had once caused the entire Cheerios squad to quiver in fear. _"_ Inappropriate much? _"_

"What?" Santana replied, trying (and failing) to sound innocent as she sauntered away from Rachel and back towards the rest of the group. Mirth sparkled in her dark eyes. "Berry's got a rockin' body now, okay? I mean, you saw it last night, just like the rest of us. Unless, of course, you shut your eyes at the sight of all that skin, like the good little prude you are. Anyway, you can't blame me for wanting to check it out." A devilish smile crossed her face as she saw the anger rise up in Quinn's.

Furious, Quinn was about to launch herself at Santana, but Rachel's voice - and the vise-like grip of the smaller girl's hand around her arm - stopped her. "No. I don't want any fighting between any members of this club. Not here. Not now. We've come too far, and there's too much at stake, for anything to distract us at this point."

"She's right, Santana," said Mr. Schuester. The girl rolled her eyes, but dropped her head in submission. "We need to focus here. This is _Nationals_ , guys. The top of the mountain! We're so close to the championship I can taste it. I can _feel_ it! Who else is feeling it?"

"I feel it, Mr. Schue," Finn said, stepping forward. The tall young man's long arms and legs seemed to compete for the same space, as they always did. "I...I just want to say that I'm proud of this club, proud to be part of it. I believe we're gonna win today, and I don't think it'll be close, either." He looked around at the other New Directions, some of whom were standing, others sitting down on the stage. "Being in glee club has given me some of the best times of my life, times I'll never forget. What Rachel said back when we first started out is true – being part of something special like this...it's made _me_ feel special. Nothing else ever made me feel that way, not even football."

Mike, Puck and Sam all clapped Finn on the shoulder. Kitty looked up at him with a broad smile. He answered it with a lopsided grin of his own.

"Word," Artie said, raising a gloved hand. "The boy speaks truth."

Mercedes rose from her spot on the floor, where she'd been sitting with Kurt and Blaine, to exclaim, "Hell, yeah! Look, what makes this club work is the fact that it's like a second family for us – a really weird family, maybe, but it's true." She paused as everyone laughed, recognizing the truth of her words. When the laughter died down, she continued. "It gives us a place where we can express ourselves and show our feelings without having slushies thrown in our faces for it. A place where we're not made to feel like misfits or outsiders, like everywhere else in school. Y'all drive me crazy sometimes – yeah, I'm looking at _you_ , Rachel Berry – but I love you just the same, and no matter what happens today, you're the best family anybody could ever have."

"I concur," Kurt said, brushing invisible dust from his immaculately tailored pants as he and Blaine stood. Blaine coiled an arm around Mercedes' waist to bring her in for a side hug; she accepted the embrace with a soft giggle. "As much as it pains me to say it," Kurt went on, smiling to show there was no malice in his words, "Rachel is our star. But let's not forget that the rest of us are stars too, and we all shine brightest when we shine together."

"You're exactly right, Kurt," Mr. Schuester agreed with an emphatic shake of his head. "All right, everybody – show circle!"

The group – including Ms. Pillsbury and Ms. Corcoran - formed a large circle, extending their arms into the middle of the circle, placing their hands one atop the other. Someone counted down from three, and they all shouted, "A-MA-ZING!" at the top of their lungs as they raised the pile of hands skyward. Energized and focused, they then whooped, cheered, laughed and high fived each other as they all filed out of the ballroom and back into the hotel.

All, that was, except for Ms. Corcoran, who was watching Rachel with curious eyes and a peculiar, almost blank expression on her face.

* * *

The Nationals competition was grueling, as they'd known it would be. Mr. Schuester and Ms. Corcoran had both been adamant about that, mercilessly drilling home that crucial point again and again throughout the New Directions' preparations. It went in two long, agonizing rounds, the first of which was designed to cull the field down to the ten best show choirs in the nation, making the second round, held in the evening, the crucial final step towards hoisting the coveted (and quite massive) trophy aloft as the U.S. National Show Choir Champions.

Kara watched in fascination as group after group of young people took the stage to sing and dance their hearts out, marveling at the level of talent and sophistication displayed by each club. She found herself feeling very glad that she wasn't a judge at this competition, because she had absolutely no idea how one could possibly judge one better than another. That might have had something to do with the fact that she'd never been a singer or dancer herself, she supposed, although she did love music. Her attention wasn't entirely on the stage anyway, however; her super-senses were on full alert, having felt that something was slightly... _off,_ somehow, when she'd entered the hotel well before the first round of competition had begun.

Looking over at Rachel, who was seated midway through the long row of seats that had been installed just for the competition, Kara thought she saw the same feeling of vague disquiet in her face, but that could also have been competitive nerves. She'd learned through her various conversations with the other New Directions that Rachel Berry was an extraordinarily fierce competitor, one with a drive and determination that made her stand out among her peers, along with her incredible voice and incandescent smile. The girl never, ever settled for anything less than maximum effort and commitment, both from herself and from the rest of the team. In fact, some of her glee club peers had confessed to Kara that their complaints about Rachel being a "diva" and a "drama queen" were really designed to mask their admiration for, and their appreciation of, her ability to get the very best out of them at all times – even those who complained the most, like Puck, Santana and Kitty.

Finally, the moment came when Mr. Schuester got up from his seat at the end of the row, pointed to his watch, and signaled to the group that it was time for them to go backstage and change into their competition outfits; they would be performing in the second half of the final round. It was coming down to crunch time. Everything they'd worked so hard to achieve was on the line. Anything less than first place would be a crushing disappointment as far as the group was concerned.

Kara looked up from the little notebook in which she'd been scribbling her thoughts and impressions about the competition for the article she'd been assigned to write, uncertain as to what she should do. Should she join them backstage to wish them luck? Or should she stay out here in her seat, or mill about with the rest of the audience as they stretched their legs during the fifteen-minute intermission? Biting her lip, she felt awkward and slightly confused – until Rachel's eyes caught and held her own, and Kara found that she couldn't resist the plea in the diminutive starlet's gaze. She rose and followed the group into the backstage area, where the large dressing rooms, with their lighted mirrors and racks of costumes, awaited.

The girls and boys had separate changing rooms, of course, so Kara followed Ms. Pillsbury and Ms. Corcoran and the rest of the female New Directions. It quickly became a whirlwind of activity there, a storm of excited chatter and frantic hair styling, makeup application and worries about dresses not fitting properly (or, in Santana's case, fitting a little _too_ well). Kara dutifully smiled and nodded 'yes' when Tina asked her if she looked good, feeling a little out of her element, but the pretty Asian girl beamed with happiness at her response just the same.

To the world outside the Grand Hotel in the very heart of National City, what was going on inside meant nothing. But to these young people, it meant _everything._ It was the culmination of countless hours of rehearsals, of sweat and tears shed in equal measure, agonizing over this dance step or that note, testing friendships that were at once deepened and sometimes strained, stretched but never close to broken, forged in the fires of discipline and sacrifice. Kara had nothing in her own high school or even college experience with which to compare it; she'd always kept a low profile so as not to expose her powers to the wider world around her, as her adoptive parents and sister had instructed her to do. Now she found herself envying these bright, gifted young people for their pride in being exactly who and what they were, without worry or apology, here on the biggest stage of their young lives.

"They really _are_ remarkable," Shelby said, as she came to stand next to Kara, watching the group go through their final preparations with a softness in her eyes that reminded the lost daughter of Krypton of the way her own mother had once looked at her, another lifetime ago. It startled Kara to realize that the woman who served as the group's harshest taskmaster deeply loved her charges, although of course she'd had no real reason to doubt that fact. It startled her even more when she realized that Shelby's words were exactly what she'd been thinking when the woman approached her.

"Oh – yes, yes, they are. _Very_ remarkable," replied Kara, trying to keep the surprise from her face and voice. "All the groups in the competition are, really. I mean, as far as I can tell."

"They're all very good, that's true. This _is_ Nationals, after all. They wouldn't be here if they weren't. But they're not like these kids. No – these kids are special," Shelby responded. "When they started out, they had absolutely _zero_ idea what they were doing. No idea whatsoever. They didn't even really _like_ each other, to tell you the truth. They were all so guarded, so hurt by the constant bullying and ridicule they'd received just because they were different. It was hard for them to let that guard down, to let each other in, at first. Rachel more than the others, believe it or not. She was so caught up in her talent, in her dreams, in where she wanted to go and what she wanted to do after she got out of Lima that she had no clue as to how she came off to everybody else – which was _really_ not at all well, I have to tell you. Some might say she had a bit of a Napoleonic complex."

Kara stared at the tall, statuesque brunette next to her, blinking owlishly through her glasses. She found it just about impossible to imagine this group as a bunch of skittish, wary adversaries, closed off and distrustful of each other.

"I can tell by the look on your face that you can't believe what I'm saying, but it's true," Shelby chuckled, shaking her head slightly. She crossed her arms and sighed. "It seems like ages ago now. They had to work really hard just to become any kind of team at all, much less the tight-knit, lean, mean singing and dancing machine they are now. In fact, Quinn absolutely _hated_ Rachel in the beginning. She and Brittany and Santana were called the 'Unholy Trinity,' and as the elite top cheerleaders on the squad, they terrorized the whole school - and Rachel in particular."

This revelation drew a gasp from the fledgling reporter. "I...I hadn't heard that before. I mean, none of the kids told me."

"Don't worry about it," Shelby said, her voice pitched to reassure. "It's ancient history to them. It would never have occurred to any of them to mention it. They've got a bond now that's unlike anything I've ever seen in all my years of teaching. These kids would walk through fire for one another. They really love each other – some more than others, I'll grant you." She pointed to where Brittany and Santana had sneaked off to what they thought was a secluded spot and begun kissing each other passionately. "Hey!" she called to them. "Save that for _after the show,_ you two. You'll mess up your makeup."

"Sorry, Ms. Corcoran," Brittany said brightly, adjusting her skirt as though nothing had happened.

"Not sorry," Santana added, licking her lips. "Come on, Britt-Britt. I think you need a little more glitter in your hair." With that, they crossed over to one of the vanities, where the lights around the mirror cast a benevolent glow on their flawless skin.

"Oh, to be young again," laughed Shelby. "Let me tell you something, and you can print this: I have no life. Everything I've got, I give to these kids. I spend nearly every waking moment thinking about them, worrying about them, hoping and praying for them to realize each and every dream they have. The same goes for Will and Emma." She looked down for a moment, and when she raised her eyes again, Kara saw that they were shimmering with tears. "Lima's not an easy town to leave. A lot of the kids who grow up there never do. But these kids...like I said, they're special."

Kara felt at a loss once again. Plucking planes out of the air, rescuing people from burning buildings – these were things she understood, things she instinctively knew how to handle. But _this_...this outpouring of emotion from someone she barely knew was something she discovered she wasn't sure she could handle at all. Helplessly, she patted Shelby's arm and waited for the woman to continue.

"Look at them," Shelby said as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue that she'd produced from her pants pocket. "Brittany there, and Mike? Best dancers their age that I've ever seen. As long as they stay healthy, their potential is unlimited. You've watched them a bit, but you haven't seen everything they can do. Every competition, they pull some insane move out of a hat, right there on the spot, and the audience goes nuts. Gives everybody else a frickin' heart attack, but they nail it every single time. It's just an instinct with them."

Kara's mouth made an "O" of surprise. "I've watched previous competitions on YouTube, Ms. Corcoran, but I would never have guessed that those moves weren't planned and rehearsed. They look completely seamless."

"Call me Shelby. And they weren't - not a single one of them. I marvel at these kids every single day, Ms. Danvers. They call Rachel their star, but honestly? Mercedes, Tina, Santana, Artie and Kurt are very nearly as good as she is, and none of them except Mercedes have had anywhere near the kind of intensive training that Rachel's had. These kids are all just amazingly gifted. Puck, Finn and Kitty are natural leaders. All Will and I do, really, is help them to believe in themselves, believe in their talents. The rest is all them."

"Kara. I - I mean, you can call me Kara."

Shelby smiled. "Kara. You know, you seem like you could fit right in with them. Oh, I know you're older, you're a college grad and all that – but still, you're like the youngest college grad I've ever seen." She turned her wrist to check her watch. " _Ten minutes and you're on, guys!_ Get moving - we've got a trophy to win!"

"Relax, Ms. C.," Mercedes replied with a confident grin. "We've got this."

"We don't have it until the judges _say_ we do, Miss Thing," Shelby shot back. "So just concentrate on remembering the steps in the third number, okay?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes, but acquiesced with a quiet, "Yes, ma'am." Then she called to Brittany, who had finally achieved just the right balance of glitter in her cornsilk blonde hair. "Hey Britt – can we go over the choreography in _Somebody to Love_ one more time?"

The tall blonde cheerleader's blue eyes sparkled as she bounded over to her friend. "Sure!" She turned to where Santana was seated at the mirror, inspecting her eye makeup one last time. "San, this will just take a couple minutes."

"All right, but Mercedes – don't step on my girl's toes, okay?" Santana drawled. Mercedes just laughed as Brittany led her away to practice their steps.

"Those two are...something else," Kara observed. "Brittany and Santana, I mean. Things have really changed since I was in high school."

"For the better, I say. I'm so happy that they get to be open about who they are. Not hiding, not pretending to be anything else, the way it used to be. Although it did take Santana a little time to accept a few things about herself, between you and me. They've got their stuff together now, but for a while, things were a real mess. Hard to believe, to look at them now, right?"

At that moment, Kara felt her face flush with heat when Rachel looked over and smiled at her. The other New Directions had all talked about her (in)famous "show smile," but this was a different smile - warmer, gentler, more open and genuine. It felt... _intimate,_ somehow. It made her feel something in the pit of her stomach, something she'd never felt before and couldn't name. Then Rachel turned to laugh at something Quinn and Tina had said, and the smile was gone.

But the feeling remained.

She suddenly became aware that Shelby was still speaking. "...I don't know if Quinn wants a life on the stage like Rachel, Tina, Mercedes, Kurt and Blaine all do," Shelby was saying. "But I know that she can do just about anything she wants. She's one smart cookie, that girl. Did you know she's applied to Yale? I'll bet she gets in, too."

Kara was about to respond, but before she could say anything, Ms. Pillsbury's voice came out of nowhere to announce, " _Five minutes, everyone!_ The boys are already outside. Let's go meet them, shall we?"

Shelby nodded to Kara. "You should get back to your seat - unless you'd rather watch from the wings with me, Will and Emma?"

"Oh! I would love to watch with you guys. Um, if you don't mind, of course."

The other woman's eyes seemed to lose focus, go far away, for just a second, almost imperceptibly, but Kara's keen perception caught the strange look. She filed it away in her mind for later thought. "Why would I mind? Come on, let's go. It's show time!"

* * *

If Kara had any doubt that the New Directions would win this competition, it was swiftly erased approximately thirty seconds into the group's first number. Rachel had the solo in this song, and Kara instantly understood what Artie had meant when he had told her the girl had "star quality." She absolutely owned the stage from the second the curtain opened, and had the crowd in the palm of her hand by the end of the first verse. Rachel didn't need telepathy to know how to make the audience feel exactly the way she wanted them to feel; all she needed was the sheer power and emotional depth of her voice. When she closed her eyes and became one with the song itself, everyone else in that room was right there with her. It was a virtuoso performance that left Kara absolutely breathless with wonder.

By the end of their third and final number, with Mercedes bringing down the house on the last note and and Brittany – in heels! - executing some kind of death-defying running flip and lift move with Mike, she had to remember to rein in her own non-human voice as she joined the crowd in showering the New Directions with wild, raucous cheers and applause. Will, Emma and Shelby all hugged and high fived each other, laughing and crying and shouting all at the same time, while Kara stepped to the side, not wanting to intrude on their proud moment.

When the top three groups stood on the stage to hear the judges' announcement, it was readily apparent by the looks on the faces of the members of the other two teams that the New Directions' victory was a foregone conclusion. But the McKinley students' expressions gave nothing away, as they'd been trained to do. Almost above all else, Will and Shelby had emphasized the importance of being gracious in victory as well as defeat along the long, hard journey to this moment, and the New Directions wanted very much to show their teachers that they had learned the lesson well. Yet the moment the second place team's name was announced, their collective iron will melted into a puddle at their feet, and the smiles that lit up their faces shone brighter than the the lights illuminating the stage and the audience combined.

Those smiles turned to tears, gasps and screams of delight when the announcer informed them and the cheering crowd that the New Directions had indeed won, and were now the new National Show Choir champions. Finn lifted Kitty up in his arms, and they shared a sweet and tender kiss. Blaine and Kurt surreptitiously entwined their fingers, choosing to save theirs for later, preferring to express their happiness in a more private setting. Santana, for her part, couldn't even bring herself to look miffed when Brittany hugged Mike, the tall Asian football player-turned-dancer, first. Her patience was rewarded when her blue-eyed girlfriend took her face in her pale-skinned hands (creating what struck Kara as a lovely contrast with Santana's caramel complexion) and kissed her senseless. Tina went on a hugging spree, embracing Mercedes first, then Sam, then Puck, and so on until she'd hugged everyone at least twice, dizzy with joy and adrenaline.

When the adults ran onto the stage to congratulate their team, Kara remained in the wings, content to bask in the warm glow of their happiness. She pulled out her digital camera and took pictures of the celebration, which she knew would go perfectly with the individual portraits and candid shots she had taken earlier. As she snapped away, Rachel beckoned to her. Kara pointed to herself, as if to say, _Me?_ She shook her head _no_ , feeling that this was the kids' moment, that she hadn't played any real part in their victory and therefore didn't have any right to be out there with them. But when Rachel beckoned again, with a devastating pout added for good measure, she relented, laughing to herself, and walked out to the stage to be swarmed by a bunch of deliriously happy teenagers.

It all made her feel like one herself, and somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that she hadn't felt this way very often in her life, not even when she _was_ a teenager. A small part of her mourned that fact, but that sadness was quickly forgotten when Rachel embraced her, laughing as though this moment could never, would never end.

After a celebratory dinner and a walk through the surrounding neighborhood to burn off the rest of their excess energy, the triumphant New Directions returned to their individual rooms a weary but still insanely happy group. They would pack and leave the next day, but for now, they were far too tired to do much more than get changed and fall into their beds. Kara, however, needed to get back home to write and file her story, which was why she was in the hotel's vast lobby saying goodbye to Rachel and some of the others when "the incident" - as it came to be known – occurred.

* * *

Quinn didn't indulge in the half-hour pre-bedtime skin care ritual that Rachel insisted upon, but she did have her own regimen, which she followed religiously due to the acne problem she'd suffered when she was younger. She had just removed her makeup, washed her face and applied several products to her alabaster skin when a chill suddenly ran up her spine. She dropped the towel she'd been using to dry her face and hugged herself, her body tensed at the incipient realization that there was someone – or _something –_ else in the room.

She wished Rachel were there with her.

Frightened, she called out, "Who's there? Show yourself!" She hoped she didn't sound anywhere near as terrified as she felt.

 _Your group performed well,_ a deep voice intoned out of nowhere. It seemed to be male, yet there was a feminine undertone to it, to Quinn's ears, as well. Soft, yet carrying an edge of menace that made the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention. _It was...most inspiring to watch. Especially your friend – the one called Rachel Berry.  
_

Quinn's blood ran cold at the way the voice had said Rachel's name. "What – what do you want with Rachel? Who are you?"

 _I am nothing. Yet I am everything. You may call me...the One Who Walks in Shadow. I have a favor to ask of you, pretty one. It's quite simple, really. I ask only that you pass along a message to Rachel for me._

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you anywhere near Rachel, whoever – _whatever_ you are!" Quinn shouted defiantly, her fists clenched so tight they were going numb. Her heart was pounding so fast and so hard, she felt as though it might burst right through her chest at any moment. "Now get the hell out of my room!"

 _Ah, children. They are so...amusing._ The presence let out what sounded like a sigh, the scrape of wind through dry, desiccated late autumn leaves. _It would be far simpler for me to kill you where you stand, and let your corpse serve as the message. But no – that would be...impolite. Excessive. And messy. Subtlety is such a rare thing in these times, all the more valuable for that distressing fact._

Sensing the presence drawing closer to her, Quinn shivered, utterly incapable of speech or movement now. Her scream was bottled tightly somewhere in her abdomen, unable even to close her eyes against the feeling of complete corruption that made her skin crawl - wanting, but not able, to keep her nose from inhaling the stench of absolute horror that surrounded her now. It pervaded every square inch of the room, and Quinn knew that she would never, ever be able to forget it as long as she lived.

 _My patience is not endless, however, so I will say again: you will pass a message to Rachel Berry, and the message is this - memory has a price, and it is paid in blood and fire. This world has been claimed. If Rachel Berry and the Kryptonian intend to defend it against those I serve, they do so at their peril._

The presence's grip on her loosened a bit. Quinn gasped out, "Why – why tell _me_ this? R-Rachel's downstairs. You...you could have...given her...the message...yourself."

 _Yes. That is true, child. But it's...more fun this way, is it not? Besides, that would have precipitated a battle that I am not...permitted...to have at this moment. This is against my desire, but it is the will of those I serve, and I serve them absolutely. They are not without honor, in their way. I am told your kind admires that. So be thankful, for it is only that which stays my hand, that and nothing more. Else you would be dead already._

The iron band around her chest suddenly vanished. Quinn dropped to her hands and knees, sucking in great lungfuls of air as she did so. The image of a dog cocking its head in response to a faraway sound entered her mind, and she felt the presence move away from her.

 _Ah. They come. Thus, I must take my leave. Do not fail to say the words as they were given to you, child. And now -_

The room's main door slammed inward, slamming off the wall with terrific force, exploding into splinters, and Quinn felt more than saw the blurred figures of Rachel and – the reporter, Ms. Danvers? - bursting into the room.

" _ **GET – AWAY – FROM – HER – NOW, YOU BASTARD!"**_

Rachel's voice boomed at a deafening volume as twin beams of pure destructive voice lanced from her eyes at a target Quinn couldn't see. She _did_ see those beams hit their mark, heard them sizzle upon impact, watched them bounce away to burn two very sizable holes through the painting on the wall, and the wall behind it.

An ugly, oily laugh filled the room, and Quinn felt the presence shift again, move towards the window. When it spoke again, however, pain colored its voice.

 _You are far more powerful than we thought, Rachel Berry. We had not...accounted for that. This has required us to...alter our timetable. This is not something that will take long, however, so it is not advised that you, or the Kryptonian who stands beside you, relax. You – and your world – are on borrowed time, as the humans say. I go now. We shall meet again._

Rachel sent another blast of force in the presence's direction, and Quinn gasped when it hit, for at that moment she saw the outline of a figure cloaked in a shadow of dark energy, with several pairs of inhuman eyes burning through that darkness staring back at her, their colors shifting and swirling as though the storms of a thousand thousand worlds raged within them.

And then the presence was gone, as abruptly as it had come. Quinn felt a wave of relief crash through her at its departure. No longer able to bear the strain of trying to process all she had seen, Quinn's mind welcomed the darkness that reached out to claim her, and she gratefully passed out in Rachel's arms.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you're all watching season two of _Supergirl,_ which just premiered last week. I own none of the characters in this story, though I greatly wish I did. Thank you for reading, following and favoriting. Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**song and steel** _a Glee / Supergirl crossover event_

 _ **chapter ten**_

After making sure that Quinn was all right, Kara left Rachel, still bristling with anger, and the rest of the frightened and confused New Directions in the hotel so that she could go home for just a little while. There she wrote and filed her story via the secure CatCo website, typed on her laptop at super-speed. Then she walked over to her window, stared out into the pre-dawn National City sky and collected her thoughts. Yesterday had been a great day, right up until...the _incident_ had cast a pall over everything, replacing the joy and excitement of the glee club's victory with fear and uncertainty over what today might bring. Kara herself was as unsure as the rest of them, and when she felt like this, she knew there was only one person to whom she could turn. She tapped the secret number on her cell phone and waited for the familiar voice to answer.

" _Kara?_ It's 4:30 in the morning! Are you all right? What's going on?" came the voice, groggy with sleep, yet still laden with concern.

"Alex, hi. I'm all right," Kara replied, smiling at the way her adoptive sister always sounded whenever she was awakened. "But there's...a _situation_ I need to ask you about. Actually, I might need to call Hank and Winn and the rest of the D.E.O in on this too, now that I think about it."

"It's got to be a really important _situation_ if you're calling me at this hour," Alex grumbled as her girlfriend Maggie stirred beside her, mumbling. Kara heard Alex telling her to go back to sleep, everything's fine, she'll be back in a few minutes.

Kara's smile widened. It made her happy that her sister had finally found a life outside of work, and a partner to make that life complete. Kara wondered idly whether she'd ever find such things for herself as she heard the rustling of sheets and blankets that told her Alex was getting out of bed. She listened to the sound of her sister's feet padding into the living room of the apartment she shared with Maggie, heard the _thump_ of her body hitting the couch.

"All right, you've got me awake and out of bed, so talk," Alex said, blinking in the dim light.

Kara frowned; now that she had Alex on the phone, she didn't quite know where to begin. Should she start with the _incident_ first, or should she tell Alex about Rachel and _then_ about the attack that could have claimed an innocent young woman's life? She heard Cat Grant's voice in her head: _It's all about the_ facts _, Kara. The_ who _,_ what _,_ where _and_ why _of things._

"Um, let's see. There's a lot going on. I...I met someone. Someone like me, I mean. A young woman with powers, an alien who escaped her home planet just before it was destroyed." Kara smiled in spite of herself at the thought of the diminutive singer who had been dominating her thoughts these last few days. "Her name is Rachel Berry, and she...she's amazing."

"Wait. Back up. Who is this...person? And how did you meet her?"

"Well, you know I'm a reporter for CatCo now, right?"

Alex nodded in amusement, recalling how excited Kara had been when she'd related that bit of news – she'd sounded like a kid in a candy store. "Uh-huh. Go on."

"Um, so my first assignment was to cover the National Show Choir Championship over at the Grand Hotel in mid-town -"

"The national _what_ now?"

"Show choir. It's a singing and dancing competition. High school teams come from all over the country to battle it out. I know it sounds weird, but it's actually really interesting."

Stifling a yawn, Alex mumbled, "Yeah, _interesting._ " When what she really wanted to say was, _you woke me up at 4:30 in the god-damned morning for this?_

"I heard that. Super-senses, remember?"

"Sorry. Please, go on. I'm sure there's a point to this somewhere."

"Anyway, I decided to focus the story on this one group – the New Directions, from a small town in Ohio. Lima, I think. They're an incredibly talented, dedicated and diverse group of kids with lots of interesting personalities. Rachel Berry is their star performer. You should look them up on YouTube, because they're absolutely amazing."

"Okay, first of all, I'm sure they're great and everything, but that _name._ I mean, really - you know what that sounds like? Say it fast, and it comes out like -"

Kara groaned. She'd heard way too many jokes about it in the last several days. " _Don't say it."_

"Sorry." She wasn't sorry at all, of course. She had to get back at Kara for this somehow. "Continue."

"As I was saying, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted – Rachel is the group's star performer, and as it turns out, she's also the last survivor of her home planet." Kara couldn't even try to hide the excitement she felt at the connection she'd made with Rachel. "Just like me, Alex! And she's got powers, too. In fact, I think she's as powerful as J'onn – she might even be _more_ powerful than him, actually. But get this – someone, or some _thing,_ caused her to repress all her memories of her home world, and even kept her from accessing her powers, until just a couple of nights ago."

"Okay, now you've got my attention. So there's this teenage girl out there who's at Omega power levels, but she didn't know it until now? What caused her powers to manifest? And how is she at controlling them? Please don't tell me she's another one of these _oh help me, I don't know how my powers work_ types. They tend to wreck all kinds of things until we can get them under control and down to the D.E.O."

Kara chuckled, shaking her head at the way her sister's practical, analytical side had instantly emerged at the description of young Rachel's abilities.

"No, no. She's actually pretty good at controlling her powers, even though she's only known about them for a few hours - which is just _one_ of the remarkable things about her. Like, she's not _actually_ a teenager; time flows differently where she comes from, so here on Earth she's the equivalent of a 24 year old, even though she looks like she's 17."

"Hmm. Is there any chance you could convince this...Rachel girl to come with you to the D.E.O so we can do a proper evaluation and assessment of her power levels?"

"She's _not_ a threat, Alex."

"That's not what I meant. I just...we need to be _sure_ about her, that's all. Especially if she's of an unknown alien type. You know we need to have as much information as possible about all the alien species that are here on Earth – it's part of our mission. It's what we do, Kara."

The last daughter of Krypton's mood darkened. She couldn't bear the thought of Rachel being poked and prodded in the D.E.O labs, like some kind of science experiment. But on the other hand, she knew that there was at least some truth to what Alex was saying. There was still so much the world didn't know about the otherworlders living amongst humanity – and, she realized, so much Rachel didn't know about _herself._ If anyone could help her with that, it would be the D.E.O.

"I'll talk to her. But...there's more. After the New...er, Rachel's team won the competition, another girl on the team, Rachel's best friend Quinn, was attacked by _another_ alien. At least, I _think_ it was an alien. I'm not entirely sure just _what_ it was; honestly, I've never seen anything like it. Maybe my cousin has, but...I don't know. Rachel blasted it a couple of times, but it got away. I – I can't even describe what this thing was like, but Rachel - if... _when_ she comes down to the D.E.O with me, she can _show_ you. Telepathically."

Alex' eyes widened. "Like J'onn?"

"I think her telepathic abilities might be even more advanced than his. Rachel can make you see things... _feel_ things. It's not just garden variety mind-reading and thought projection. It's something more. Something really special."

Alex thought she heard a different note in Kara's voice when she said that last word. A note she'd never heard before. Could her sister be...? No. She shook her head. It was insanely late, or early, and she was still very tired.

"Okay, well. I'll report this news to Hank – I mean, J'onn – and we'll prepare everything for Rachel." A thought struck her. "You said this other girl, Quinn, was attacked by another alien, right?"

"Yes. She was really scared, too, but incredibly brave." Kara's mind raced back to the previous night's horrific events. "She kept the alien talking until Rachel and I got up to the room and ran it off, and then after it was gone, she passed out. Poor thing."

"Bring her along too. Maybe we can learn something about the other alien from her."

Kara was surprised by this request, but she had to admit it made sense. Still, in the short time she'd had to get to know Quinn, she'd learned that the girl was very private, not given to volunteering much information to people outside her circle of close and loyal friends. Rachel, she could convince to accompany her to the D.E.O – but Quinn might be another story. Nonetheless, Alex was right, as usual. She had to try.

"Okay. That sounds like a good plan."

"Of course it does. Now, if there's nothing else, I'm going to try and get some more sleep. You know, I think you forget how important sleep is to us humans sometimes."

"I'm sorry. I...I just needed to talk to my big sister."

Alex smiled. "It's okay. I'm glad you called. Now let me go already. It's going to be a busy day for both of us."

"Right. Goodnight, Alex. I love you."

"I love you too, Kara. Goodnight."

And with that, Alex Danvers, D.E.O agent and sister of National City's very own superhero, ended the call and dragged herself back to bed, even though she knew she'd never get back to sleep with all the thoughts whirling around in her head.

* * *

They sat in Rachel and Quinn's room, listening to Quinn's silence after Kara explained everything: about how she was actually Supergirl, and how she worked with her sister for a shadowy, super-secret quasi-governmental agency called the Department of Extra-Normal Operations – or the D.E.O, for short - that specialized in dealing with all manner of alien activity on Earth; and about how said agency needed to speak with both her and Rachel about the alien being they had confronted, the one who could have killed her as easily as she could swat a fly. She was dizzy, overwhelmed by all this information, still barely processing what had happened, and all she could think to say, when the silence became almost suffocating, was:

"But we have school tomorrow."

"That's really not a problem, Quinn," Kara said in what she hoped was a soothing, convincing tone of voice. "I've already spoken with Mr. Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury and Ms. Corcoran, and they've spoken with your principal, Mr. Figgins, and with your mother and Rachel's dads."

"Really?" Quinn raised her eyes; she'd kept them focused squarely upon her hands, folded in her lap, refusing to look at the pretty young reporter who claimed to be a superhero, or at her best friend, who wanted to be one. This was all too surreal to her, like a scene out of a movie she might watch with Brittany and Santana on a lazy Saturday afternoon; she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around it.

"What...what did they say? And what did you tell them?"

"Well, Mr. Figgins said it's fine if we – and the rest of the team - stay here a few days to celebrate our national championship victory," Rachel said brightly. "It will give everyone at McKinley more time to decorate the school in honor of the New Directions."

At Rachel's nod, Kara continued. "And once he signed off on it, all the parents were fine with it too. The football coach - Beiste, I think he said her name was - has volunteered to cover Mr. Schuester's history classes, and Ms. Pillsbury is taking some vacation days. So is Ms. Corcoran." Kara was careful to keep the suspicion she felt towards the glee club co-director out of her voice; she wasn't ready to voice those concerns just yet.

Quinn's hazel eyes swam with indecision; Rachel didn't have to use her telepathic powers to see the internal struggle taking place within her best friend's head and heart. The Fabray way had always been to repress difficult emotions, until Quinn had irrevocably broken that dubious tradition, thanks to the deep friendships she'd cultivated in the glee club. Still, the girl played things close to the chest, and Rachel suspected that she always would. They were best friends, had been for the last three years - and even so, Rachel couldn't tell exactly which way Quinn would go on this.

Finally, Quinn looked Rachel, and then Kara, in the eye, her face set in a mask of determined resolve. Rachel recognized it as the look she used to level at those unfortunate lesser beings who would incur her wrath simply by crossing her path in the hallways of McKinley High. Even now, she couldn't quite suppress a shiver at seeing that look; but she knew it meant that Quinn had made her decision.

"I'll go. That...that _thing,_ whatever it was...it needs to be caught and put away, as soon as possible." Quinn shuddered, but kept her eyes raised, defiantly. "I felt - I felt its hatred...the pleasure it took in my pain, in my fear. It's _evil._ I never understood what that word really means until I felt its presence – right there where you're standing, Ms. Danvers. So if coming with you to this...this D.E.O. place can help make that happen...I'll do it."

Suddenly, the door flew open, and the New Directions piled in, falling on top of each other like dominoes. Finn, at the bottom of the pile, at least had the decency to look sheepish about listening in on the conversation. Then Santana stepped over her classmates, followed by Brittany, and casually declared, "We'll go too."

She stepped up to Kara, the picture of tough girl cool, raising her head to confront the startled young reporter. "And by _we,_ I mean me and Britts. No way you guys are going to do all the cool stuff while we're all sitting here in this hotel, looking at the four walls and twiddling our thumbs."

"I'm sorry, Santana – but didn't anyone ever tell you it's _rude_ to eavesdrop? And that goes for the rest of you too!" Rachel exclaimed indignantly, standing up from the bed and stomping her foot while crossing her arms.

"Don't care," Santana replied tartly. "If cool stuff is happening somewhere, that's where Auntie Snixx and her girl Britt-Britt need to be. Not stuck with these lame asses, listening to Kurt and Blaine arguing about the fashion merits of bow-ties, or Wheezy and Tina obsessing over the latest Brad and Angelina news."

"Hey!" Blaine protested weakly as he helped Kurt up, the rest of the group stumbling over each other as they struggled to rise. Kitty closed the door, and suddenly the room was full of chattering teenagers.

"Okay, you all need to go now," Kara said, feeling strangely unnerved by the intense Latina's glare. "This really doesn't involve you, and it's a good idea for all your sakes to keep it that way. There are things happening here that you couldn't possibly understand."

"So help us understand," Tina urged. Mercedes added, "Things always go better when we work together – isn't that what you're always telling us, Rachel? Whatever the hell is going on, we want to help."

"You _can't_ , not with this," Rachel responded, a little more sharply than she'd intended. "If you get involved, you'll be in serious danger. It's bad enough that Quinn has had a terrible experience – we don't want any of you to go through anything like that either."

"Rachel's right."

Every pair of eyes in the room focused on Quinn, whose soft voice had somehow cut through the chorus of voices raised in protest. Her face was paler than usual, and her body shook with the strain of keeping her emotions in check.

"What I went through...that's not something I'd ever wish on my worst enemy, let alone my best friends. Please – I appreciate the concern, but...if you won't listen to Rachel, listen to me. You _don't_ want to get involved in this."

"Q, come on," Puck pleaded, his expression sad, his voice uncharacteristically tender. "We're a family, remember? A really loud, messed up family, but yeah. We take care of our own."

"No, Puck – everyone." Quinn screwed her eyes shut, shaking her head. "I can't in good conscience allow anyone to put themselves at risk. You don't know what you're asking."

"Yeah, we do, Quinn," Finn countered. "I was in love with you, once. I still love you – not in that way, not anymore, but...you know what I mean."

Quinn jumped up from the bed, startling everyone, and shouted, "You're all infuriating!" She slumped back down and turned to Rachel with a weary look. "Show them, Rachel."

Rachel looked to Kara, uncertain; she had no idea what this aspect of her telepathic powers might do to such a large group, all at once. Kara's tiny, almost imperceptible shrug in response told her that she was equally uncertain.

"Are...are you sure?" she asked Quinn, unable to keep the note of worry from her voice.

Quinn folded her hands in her lap. "Well, it seems like this is the only way we're going to get them to understand, so..." Her eyes grew distant for a moment, and when they focused, Kara saw a strength in them so fierce it nearly took her breath away. At that moment, she marveled once again at the dignity and resiliency she'd found over and over again in the humans she'd sworn to protect.

"I trust you, Rachel. Do it."

Kara nodded encouragingly. Quinn did the same. It was up to Rachel now.

Rachel stood, and the group, silent now, followed her movements intently. She had their attention. _Good._

"Okay, people. I'm going to show you just what happened to Quinn – all the sounds and images drawn directly from her mind, projected into yours," she said, as calmly as she could, while her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest. "You might want to all hold hands or put them on each other's shoulders, brace yourselves in some way. Ready? On three. One...two... _three._ "

Multiple gasps of shock filled the air in the crowded room as Rachel projected everything she drew from Quinn's mind into the minds of her friends. Brittany, Mercedes, Kurt and Tina began to cry; Blaine held Kurt up with a shaking arm around his waist. Kitty buried her face in Finn's chest even though the tall quarterback's knees were trembling. Artie would have fallen bonelessly from his wheelchair had Mike and Sam not been holding him in place by the shoulders. Santana winced at the pain of Brittany's fingernails digging into her hand, biting her lip so hard she drew blood - but unlike the others, she refused to close her eyes in the face of the horror Rachel showed them, staring resolutely out at some point in space beyond the room.

And just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Several of the New Directions slumped to the floor, exhausted by the terror they'd just experienced, holding each other tightly, sobbing. Brittany raced over to where Quinn sat motionless on the bed and engulfed her in a tearful embrace. It took a moment for her to respond, but when she did, the tears she'd held back since the _incident_ came rushing out, and the two blondes cried in each other's arms for what seemed like an eternity, even though it was really only a few minutes.

Santana turned a shaken stare towards Rachel and Kara. Her lips moved as though she was trying to form words, but for once, she remained silent. Rachel found this to be strangely disturbing and sent out a gentle thought.

 _Are you all right, Santana?_

Santana's voice wavered as it sounded in Rachel's mind, but it was no less defiant for that. _Don't worry about me, Berry. Just...just get that bastard, okay?_

And with that, she wiped away a single tear, collected Brittany from Quinn's side, and left the room.

* * *

The D.E.O complex was a massive edifice, sprawling as far below the ground as it towered above it. Rachel had managed to blur the fact of Kara's dual identity from the minds of the glee club, knowing it was necessary to keep her friends safe, but she'd refused to wipe it from Quinn's memory. She believed Quinn deserved that much, after all she'd been through. That didn't keep the blonde ex-cheerleader from staring at Kara, dressed in her Supergirl outfit, as they strode down the seemingly miles-long corridor that led to the inner sanctum of the most important agency on Earth.

"I can't believe she's Supergirl," Quinn whispered to Rachel. "She's...she's so different when she's not in that costume. Like she's another person entirely."

"Well, in a way, she _is,_ " Rachel replied. "She kind of has to be, if you think about it. They're the two sides of the proverbial coin. How else could she do what she does and maintain her sanity?"

"I can hear you guys, you know."

Quinn blushed at the mild admonishment. "Sorry, Ms. Dan – I mean, Supergirl."

"You can call me Kara, really. You don't have to be formal with me - I'm not your teacher, like Mr. Schuester or Ms. Corcoran."

"I think Quinn is just a little star-struck," Rachel teased. "She had the same look of awe on her face the other night, on the rooftop. Remember, Lucy Q?"

"Don't call me that." Quinn shoved her best friend playfully. "Who _wouldn't_ be star-struck, meeting one of the world's greatest superheroes, and especially like that?"

Kara turned to Quinn with a smile. "Thank you for the compliment, but I'm still kinda just learning on the job, really. Now, the man you're about to meet, the Director of the D.E.O., Hank Henshaw, also known as J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter – _he's_ one of the world's greatest superheroes, even if hardly anybody knows it."

They stopped short at a great glass door with the D.E.O logo etched into it, and Kara said in a hushed voice, "Let me do the talking, all right? Don't say anything unless Hank or another D.E.O staff member speaks to you first. Got it?"

"That might be hard for you, Rachel," Quinn quipped, earning herself a glare from the shorter girl. "Think you can do it?"

Kara tried and failed to stifle a chuckle, then composed herself, smoothing down her red skirt and taking in a deep breath. Seeing the serious look on her face, Quinn and Rachel stood up straight and tall, their own faces taking on similarly grave expressions.

"Okay, ladies. Here we go," the last daughter of Krypton said, and pushed the door inward, leading them into the central command room of the D.E.O. As they entered the room, the two high schoolers' heads swiveled around in awe at the billions of dollars' worth of technology surrounding them, the huge monitors on the walls, the banks of computers at every turn, the buzz of electricity and adrenaline crackling in the air, the hustle and bustle of extremely serious-looking uniformed men and women speaking into headsets in low tones, staring at their own screens, some sipping at large coffees, others diligently tapping away at their keyboards.

"Oh my God," Quinn whispered. "Is this real life?"

Before Rachel could answer, a young man in a striped button down shirt, navy blue tie and khaki pants leaped up from his seat and rushed over to Kara with a wide grin splitting his face and a joyous twinkle in his eye.

"Kara!" the man whooped. "It's good to see you. What brings you to these hallowed halls today?" He fixed his good-natured gaze upon Rachel and Quinn. "And who are these two lovely young ladies accompanying you? I didn't know the D.E.O was doing guided tours these days. Shows you how much I know what's going on around me, staring at the computer all day."

"Hi, Winn," Kara replied. "It's good to see you, too. These are my friends Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry, of Lima, Ohio. We're here to see the Director. Is he around?"

"Winn Schott," Winn said, extending his hand first to Quinn, then to Rachel to shake. As each girl shook it in turn, he jovially continued. "Pleased and delighted to make your acquaintances. Kar – I mean, Supergirl – has told me absolutely _nothing_ about you."

"Charmed," Quinn replied coolly, adopting her best _I'm silently judging you_ stare, absurdly pleased when the man's smile faltered for the tiniest of moments.

"Don't mind her," Rachel said, directing a thumb at Quinn and a dazzling smile at Winn. "She doesn't warm up to new people right away. Glad to meet you."

A new voice, deep, authoritative and commanding, accompanied the sound of heavy boots stepping into the room. "You may come to change that opinion, young lady."

The trio, plus Winn, all turned at the sound to see the large, imposing figure of a very tall, very muscular African-American man dressed all in black, with a formidable looking firearm nestled in a holster at his hip and a scowl on his face. Rachel thought absently that the man had the largest ears she'd ever seen.

"All right, break it up, people. Get back to work, Mr. Schott," the man barked. "This isn't a tea party."

Winn paled. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Right away, sir." With that, he scurried away, back to his desk, where he began assiduously typing away on his computer keyboard.

"Hello, Supergirl," the hulking man said, his voice now surprisingly tender. "Your sister should be along shortly. She was just...freshening up after a sparring session."

"Good morning, Director Henshaw," Kara replied formally, signaling the seriousness of the situation to the girls standing beside her.

His dark, intense eyes seemed almost to look through, not at, Quinn and Rachel when he turned his attention to them. "Agent Danvers briefed me immediately after you two spoke," he said. "These are the two girls who confronted the unknown alien, I take it."

"Yes, sir. Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry."

Quinn stepped forward, offering her hand, then lowering it when the man made no move to take it. "Sir."

Rachel stayed where she was. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it; for once, she was speechless. The aura of power that radiated from this man was absolutely extraordinary.

"Welcome to the D.E.O.," the Director greeted, if not warmly, at least in a cordial manner. "We will endeavor to make your stay as...painless as possible, Miss Fabray. As for you, Miss Berry – we have a full day planned out for you. Have you eaten this morning?"

Rachel blinked upon realizing that Director Henshaw was addressing her. "Um, yes. Yes, sir," she murmured. "We...we had breakfast before we left."

"Good," Henshaw boomed. "You're going to need all the energy you can muster, once Agent Danvers sees fit to join us."

"I'm here, sir," a woman's voice sounded. They all turned to see a tall, slender brunette, also clad all in black, walk into the room with an air of confident competence and a complete lack of intimidation. "Don't mind him," she said to Quinn and Rachel with a not-at-all formal wink. "He's really just a big, dark puppy. Offer him chocolate cookies and he'll be your best friend."

"Alex!" Kara exclaimed, half-admonishingly, half-stifling a laugh. Rachel and Quinn just looked at each other, confused.

"Very funny, Agent Danvers. Clearly, Mr. Schott has been a bad influence on you," Henshaw grated. "Miss Fabray, you'll be with me and Supergirl. Miss Berry, you'll be with Agent Danvers."

"Agent Danvers? You're...Supergirl's sister?" Rachel asked. The black-uniformed woman smiled brightly at this, her eyes crinkling just a bit at the corners, and Rachel immediately felt at ease for the first time since they'd been in this forbidding place.

"Guilty as charged," Alex replied. "But don't worry – I'm much nicer than she is."

Kara stuck her tongue out at her sister, then remembered that this was actually a very serious situation and schooled her face back into an appropriately serious expression.

"Yes, well – now that the introductions have all been made, I believe it's time to get down to business," said the Director, looking at his watch, not letting on that he'd seen Kara's childlike gesture, or that he'd secretly been amused by it. "Supergirl, Miss Fabray, with me. We'll see you later, Agent Danvers."

"Yes, sir," Alex responded, suddenly standing at attention and all business. She looked at Rachel appraisingly. "Come along, Miss Berry. I've heard a lot about you."

Rachel looked back over her shoulder at the retreating forms of Kara, Quinn and the Director, then back up into the warm and caring eyes of Agent Alex Danvers, a.k.a the sister of Supergirl. She had no idea what was in store for her, but because she was Rachel Berry, she knew she could handle it, no matter what it was.

"I'm ready," she said, and then they turned to walk back the way Alex had come, with Winn staring after them, shaking his head, wondering once again just what in the world was going on.

* * *

 **A/N: Apologies for the long time between updates. Life stuff, you know. Anyway, I'm thrilled to be able to deliver this update to you the day before "Supergirl" returns to our TV screens at last from its winter hiatus. I hope you enjoy it. Please review! I'm always curious as to what you think.**


	11. Chapter 11

**song and steel** _a Glee / Supergirl crossover event_

 _chapter eleven_

Hank Henshaw, the director of the secret government agency known as the Department of Extra-Normal Operations - or D.E.O. for short - stood impassively across the small examination room from Quinn, crossing his arms and peering at her with a rather stern look on his face. "Now, Miss Fabray," he rumbled, his voice deep and resonant, "I understand you had quite an encounter with an alien being of some kind very recently."

"Yes, sir," Quinn replied. She was seated on an exam table in something like a hospital gown, with a nurse hovering around recording her vital signs and other information on a tablet, a blood pressure cuff still wrapped around one arm. It was all she could do not to squirm under the imposing man's intense gaze. It reminded her all too much of her father's, and that was something she didn't particularly care to be reminded of.

Nor was the recent encounter of which he spoke, quite honestly; but she had given her word to Rachel and Supergirl that she would do whatever she could to help them investigate and either capture or destroy the otherworldly being who had threatened her and all the other people she loved most in the world – the Glee Club. And so here she was, in a secret room with yet another alien being, not wanting to answer the questions she knew were coming, knowing that she must. She shifted in place, feeling profoundly uncomfortable, but trying not to show it.

Henshaw, of course, could see her discomfort not only with his human-appearing eyes, but with his mind. As one of the world's most powerful telepathic beings, he could very easily extract each and every detail he needed from the poor girl's mind; but as the director of one of the world's most important and clandestine organizations, he rejected such a tactic as completely unethical and wrong. Moreover, to do such a thing would be to violate and possibly damage her forever, and that was something he would never do, not as an agent of the United States Government, nor as a universe-spanning superhero. In this area, perhaps, it was more important to heed that moral imperative than any other. Indeed, having had his own mind turned against him on occasion, he knew that better than most.

"I know this is difficult, Miss Fabray, believe me. If there were any other way we could do this, we would, but...none of our scanning equipment has been able to pick up any trace of the entity that attacked you," he said, modulating his voice to try and calm the obviously skittish young woman. "Whoever – _whatever –_ this creature may be, it's apparently able to elude all of the very sophisticated technology we have here at the D.E.O. But from what I understand, you were able to sense this thing before it revealed itself to you. What we need to determine is how that was possible, and whether this means you have some kind of extra-normal, metahuman ability."

Quinn shook her head, holding back a bitter, rueful laugh. " _Me?_ No, I'm just a normal girl from Lima who gets good grades, hopes to get a scholarship to Yale, and sings in her high school Glee Club. I'm as far from superhuman as it gets."

The nurse removed the blood pressure cuff from Quinn's arm, then nodded at Henshaw. At his answering nod, she left the room without a word, and they were alone. He took in the details: she was very blonde, very pretty, and very frightened. Whatever it was that had nearly taken her life had shaken her badly, understandably so; but he also had the sense that the girl was nothing if not a fighter, and that she would not merely accept what had happened to her in that hotel room. No – she would persevere, battle her way through the trauma and move forward, because that was who she was. That was what she did.

After four hundred years of observing humans, he could see this with barely a glance, as easily as the girl would see her own reflection in a mirror.

He chose not to speak of what he saw in her just yet. Instead, he pulled up a chair and sat, putting himself at eye level with Quinn. "That remains to be seen. However, your friend, Miss Berry - she is most certainly _not_ human, despite her appearance. Did you know, before you all came to National City, that she's an alien as well?"

"Rachel didn't even know it herself. To us, she was just... _Rachel._ Short, smart, talkative, a little bossy at times, but incredibly talented, and more than that, incredibly good-hearted. One day, she's not even good at sports – the next, she's able to bend steel in her bare hands and leap tall buildings in a single bound."

The softness of her voice, the small smile on the girl's lips as she spoke about her friend, checked a box in Henshaw's mind. "But she's... _more_ to you."

"Yes," admitted Quinn, biting her lip. "She's my best friend. Rachel was there for me in my darkest hour, when hardly anyone else was. She wasn't just willing, but eager, to help me, and she did in so many ways. And this was despite the fact that before we were friends, I wasn't...I wasn't exactly _nice_ to her, to say the least. I'm a better person because of her. The rest of the Glee Club deserves some credit, too, I guess – but mostly it's because of her."

"And how do you feel about her now, after her...transformation?"

Quinn frowned. What was the big man trying to imply - that she would somehow feel differently about Rachel now that it had been revealed she was an alien? Her father was anti-alien, as he was anti- so many other things, but she was not her father. The mere idea that she could ever be anything like him absolutely sickened her.

"I always admired her, even when we weren't friends, Mr. Henshaw. Nothing could ever change that. To me - to all of us - she's still the same Rachel, just with a lot of extra... _qualities_ we didn't know about."

"Well, it would seem that Miss Berry holds you in similarly high esteem. The power she brought to bear in that hotel room to save you - it was off the charts. Her abilities are nothing short of remarkable, and they're growing. Your best friend, ultimately, is going to be able to shatter mountains, level cities and boil seas. One day - and that day, Miss Fabray, is not terribly far off - her abilities will enable to tear whole worlds apart, should she choose to do so."

He paused meaningfully, watching Quinn carefully. She paled slightly, but didn't flinch, at his words.

Impressive. The girl had steel in her spine. The way she surprised him with her next words confirmed it.

"But I'm not here just to talk about _Rachel_ , am I, sir? No, you want to know about _me_ too. I'm aware of your abilities, Mr. Henshaw. I know what you can do. But Rachel – she _scares_ you." Quinn laughed. "Imagine that. Rachel Berry, of all people, scares the mighty Martian Manhunter. I know what you're getting at - you want to know if there's some way, somehow, that I could rein her in, put a leash on her, if she ever goes bad."

Henshaw's eyes narrowed. A muscle quivered at his jaw and his lips thinned to a dangerously taut line, but he said nothing. He added _perceptive_ to the list of positive qualities he could attribute to the girl.

"That's part of why you want to know if I have some kind of powers myself," Quinn continued, expanding on her thought. "Not just to help you with whatever the thing was that attacked me – but to help you figure out if there's a way to control Rachel, if it ever comes to that."

Henshaw stood slowly, so as not to intimidate the young woman with his height and bulk, letting out a deep breath as he rose. It would do no good, obviously, to alienate the girl when they really _did_ need her.

"Here at the D.E.O., we have to prepare for all possible eventualities, Miss Fabray. You're clearly an exceptionally intelligent person, so I know you understand that. The D.E.O.'s mission is not just to protect this country, but the world, and even the galaxy from any conceivable threat."

Quinn's hazel eyes flashed with anger. She knew the man didn't mean to be patronizing, but she was irritated and uncomfortable and just wanted this all to be over as soon as possible.

"Thank you for the compliment, sir, but I can tell you there's absolutely _no_ way that Rachel Berry will ever go bad or threaten the Earth. She's got the kindest, warmest, most generous heart of anyone I've ever known - and whether she was born here or on a planet 500 million miles away, that will never, _ever_ change, no matter what."

"I hope you're right, Miss Fabray," Henshaw said gravely. He turned his gaze away from her then, and towards one of the large monitors mounted on the wall above them, where a picture of Rachel and a list of all her powers – the ones they _knew_ about, anyway – filled the screen. Then he swung his eyes back to her, and what he allowed her to see in his face sent a shiver down her spine.

"Because if you're wrong, I'm not sure that Supergirl – or even her cousin – could stop her."

Quinn did flinch at these words, in spite of herself. It was impossible for her to imagine the girl she knew one day fighting both Supergirl and her more famous cousin to a standstill, let alone defeating them. Could Rachel really be _that_ powerful?

Suddenly, the door opened and the nurse returned, and the director nodded a perfunctory acknowledgment of her presence. She stood before Henshaw, ignoring Quinn, and said in a crisp voice, "Sir, everything is ready. Should I -?" Now she turned to look at the still-seated girl, who looked on intently.

"No," Henshaw replied to the nurse's incomplete question. "No need. Standard procedures, as normal."

"Normal?" Quinn chuckled derisively. "With all due respect, Mr. Henshaw, what the hell are you even _talking_ about? There's nothing _normal_ about any of this, nothing at all."

The D.E.O. Director looked directly at Quinn as the nurse stepped over and placed herself next to her. "Believe me, Miss Fabray, when you've been in this business for a while," he said with a smile that looked more like a grimace, "You find that your definition of _normal_ changes very quickly."

The nurse motioned for Quinn to hop off the exam table and follow them; evidently she was meant to be her escort. Quinn wondered what possible need there could be for _that_ when she was walking behind a giant Martian who possessed multiple superpowers. The logic escaped her, but she did as she was bidden, and together the three of them left the room, the lights dimming automatically behind them as they did.

* * *

The D.E.O. complex was a dizzying maze of labyrinthine hallways and tunnels, laden with more technological wonders than Rachel could have imagined. Around every corner, it seemed, were machines large and small, and uniformed people scurrying about doing this and that with them. It was almost overwhelming, the activity that filled nearly every square inch of the sprawling compound, and Rachel was hard pressed to keep her mind and feet focused on following Agent Alex Danvers wherever it was she was being taken.

Alex watched her from the corner of her highly trained eye. It was endearing, really, to see the way Rachel's eyes seemed to grow perpetually wider with each new marvel she encountered. She found it hard to reconcile the report they'd gotten from Kara about her incredible power levels with the sight of the small, exotically pretty girl who was obviously finding it incredibly difficult to keep herself from stopping to gawk at the various pieces of advanced tech strewn all about the place. Yet a glance at the power monitoring app running on her smart watch told her that Rachel Berry was far from an ordinary girl – or alien, for that matter - and she suppressed the urge to shudder at the data it presented.

"Oh!" Rachel exclaimed, finally stopping at one particular window, where a pearlescent craft stood on an enormous table, gleaming like a star-jewel. "That's – _Kara's_ -" She pointed excitedly at the craft as Alex walked back to join her. "Her _ship_. The one that brought her to Earth."

"Yes. How did – how did you know?" Alex was genuinely puzzled. "No one has seen that ship but me, our parents, Superman and the people here at the D.E.O."

"In her memories," Rachel replied, still staring with wide, rapturous eyes at the beautiful, elegantly designed spacecraft. "I saw it in her mind. I came here in a ship too, but I don't know what happened to it. My dads told me it just...disappeared."

Then she turned to Alex with such a hopeful look on her face, it almost broke her heart. "Is it – is it here? My ship?" she asked, an excited light kindling in her eyes. "I mean, if you've got Kara's ship, you could have mine too. I would love to see it again. I...I don't have anything from my world at all."

Alex hated to disappoint the girl, but she didn't think so. They hadn't even been able to determine what kind of alien she was, or from which planet she'd fled. As far as the D.E.O. was concerned, Rachel Berry was a complete mystery. And although Alex would never say so in front of the girl, that fact worried her, just as she knew it worried Director Henshaw.

Kara, though, was another story; it didn't seem to bother her at all that Rachel was such an unknown quantity. Clearly, her sister was enamored of the girl, and it wasn't hard to see why. She was quite beautiful, in a unique, exotic way, with her large eyes and sharp cheekbones, her lustrous hair and full lips, and even her slightly oversized nose. And she had quite the charming personality as well; Alex didn't think she'd ever met a more polite person in her life. She hoped that Maggie would forgive her for thinking so, but the girl had quite a pair of legs on her too, long and shapely despite her short stature.

"I don't think so," she said softly, wanting to deliver the blow as gently as possible. "It seems another agency - now defunct - got to the site where your ship landed before we did, and there's no record of whatever might have been taken from there."

"Oh. I see." Rachel cast her eyes downward, and Alex knew it was because the girl didn't want her to see the tears in them. "Um. I guess...we should continue, then. I'm sorry for holding you up."

Alex felt badly for the girl. She was a lot like Kara had been when she was younger, the way she crumpled inward at being disappointed. She found herself wanting to say something to cheer her up. The agent walked ahead silently for a few paces before she blurted, out of nowhere, "You know, my sister really likes you."

Rachel, who had been lost in her thoughts, immediately perked up at these words. "What? I – I mean, she does? _Really?"_

Alex stifled a laugh at the tone of shock and amazement in Rachel's voice. "Yes, really. When she first told me about you, she couldn't stop going on and on about this _amazing_ girl she met. She described you as having a huge singing voice and a personality to match."

"She did _not,_ " Rachel said, in the same wondering tone, and Alex could tell the girl was just as smitten with Kara as Kara was with her. "She _did?_ "

"She really did. It seems you've made quite an impression on her - and not just because you're apparently one of the five most powerful beings on the planet."

Rachel froze in her tracks, blinking as though her enhanced hearing had somehow failed her. "I'm sorry, Agent Danvers...could you repeat that? I...I'm not sure I heard you correctly."

Alex turned to give her a gentle smile, remembering how overwhelmed Kara had been when she'd learned the full extent of her abilities several years before. Rachel seemed even younger than Kara was then. She had to remind herself of what Kara had told her regarding the girl's age.

"We believe you to be one of the five most powerful beings on Earth right now, pending our official assessment."

"Who...who are the others?"

The girl's face registered genuine shock and disbelief. It was obvious to Alex, who had been dealing with meta-humans for several years already, that Rachel truly had no idea of the true extent of her abilities, and again, that was cause for concern. Someone this powerful, without knowledge of just what she could truly do, was likely to cause a ton of damage without that knowledge, without proper training. That was why it was imperative that they get some concrete data about her powers, and then begin to teach her how to use them properly, as soon as possible.

"That's classified," the agent replied, "Although you've already met two of them, and one of their relatives is kind of famous."

Rachel bit her lip, thinking. "Kara – I mean _Supergirl_ , obviously. Your boss, Director Henshaw, also known as J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter. And..." Her eyes widened. _"Superman."_

"Very good," Alex laughed. "But I'm _not_ telling you who the others are. You'll find out for yourself one day soon, anyway."

After a few more minutes of walking, with Rachel lost in silent contemplation of what she'd just been told, Alex stopped in front of an enormous bay door at the end of what had seemed like an endless corridor. There was an elaborate security mechanism next to it, including a keypad, a hand scanner and a retinal scanner.

"Here we are. The Assessment Area," she said. "This is where we evaluate the power levels of all of our allies, and the prisoners we hold here, because we're the only ones with the technology and training to hold them. Right now, we have only a general idea of what your abilities are, but once we go through all the testing procedures and protocols, we'll know much more."

Alex paused to type in the long, complex passcode (which included several parts in different alien languages), then presented her palm and finally her right eye to the scanners. There was a soft _beep,_ and then Rachel's super-sensitive ears picked up the release of the intricate system of locks that kept the room behind the door completely and totally secure.

"I know you've already seen a lot of pretty incredible things here, Rachel, but trust me – you haven't seen _anything_ yet. This room is one of the most important parts of this entire facility. Every known superhero has been in here, having his or her powers assessed, learning how to make better use of them. For some, it's a place of rehabilitation after injury. For some, it's their first step towards their destiny. For you, I think it's that, but I also think that, more than anything else, it's a place where you'll start finding the answers to a lot of the questions you have about yourself."

She looked at Rachel for a long moment, searching for any sign of fear or nervousness; but the wide, excited smile that lit up her face told Alex that she was anything but fearful or nervous. She was only too eager to step into this new world and find out more about what who she was and what she could do.

"Looks like you're ready to go," Alex dryly observed. She pressed a button hidden somewhere in the wall, and the door slowly rose to reveal the room behind it. "Come on in, then."

The happy squeal that Rachel let out as she raced into the room nearly burst the older woman's ear drums. She shook her head, chuckling to herself, and followed as the massively heavy door slowly descended and finally locked shut with a solid _thunk._

* * *

In the dimness of the sprawling underground complex, a group of infiltrators offered their thanks to the universe that the D.E.O. seemed to prefer mood lighting to bright illumination. They moved as one in the shadows, creeping along as furtively as they possibly could, hoping against hope that they wouldn't be discovered before achieving their ultimate objective. This was indeed a dangerous mission, and there was no guarantee that they would get out of it alive – but they had sworn to see it through to its end, come what may.

"I can't believe we've gotten this far without getting caught," Artie whispered, craning and twisting his neck to look up at Puck, who was pushing his wheelchair along as silently as he could manage, while still keeping up with the rest of their intrepid group.

"Dude! Don't jinx us," Puck hissed in reply. "Just be glad that Rachel, Quinn and that Danvers chick decided to walk and not drive here, or we never would've been able to follow them, let alone gotten into this place."

"Yeah, but without my sense of direction, we would have gotten lost a hundred times," Mike whispered. "Not that anybody's thanked me for that or anything."

Santana turned back to both of them with a fiery glare. "Would you idiots _please_ shut the hell up? You _say_ you don't want to get caught, but then you just keep blabbing on and on." It had been her idea for them to tail their friends and the National City reporter to wherever it was they were going, but now that they were all here, she found herself regretting that she'd allowed several of the other New Directions to come along.

"If we _do_ get caught, Mr. Schue will kill us," said Sam, peering ahead into the darkness of the seemingly endless hallway. "If Ms. Corcoran doesn't kill us first, that is. Are you _sure_ you saw Quinn and that huge dude come this way, Brittany?"

"Positive," Brittany answered, though she didn't sound positive at all. The blonde girl chewed on the end of a lock of her cornsilk hair with a look of uncertainty on her face. "I mean, I think so. It could have been a couple of robots disguised to look like Quinn and a big guy. They have robots all over the place here, don't they?"

Artie adjusted his glasses in the gloom. He was pretty sure that this was as close as he would ever get to being on the deck of the starship _Enterprise._ It was a lot to take in, and he was having a little trouble wrapping his brain around it all.

"If they don't, I'm gonna be _so_ disappointed," he whispered. "For real."

"Me too," said Sam, offering his fist for Artie to bump, which the wheelchair-bound boy did, happily. "This place is like the Transformers' home planet or something – there's tech _everywhere_."

Puck rolled his eyes at them. They were his Glee Club bros, and he'd do anything for them, but _seriously._ "You guys are such freakin' dweebs. Based on this conversation," he scoffed, "I now refuse to believe that either one of you has _ever_ kissed a girl."

Slapping her palm against her face, Santana fumed. They were all going to get thrown in jail, or worse, if these losers couldn't keep their mouths shut – and she was _not_ going down like that. And anyway, all she wanted to know was what was happening to her friends in this place, which most definitely did _not_ look like the kind of place you took someone on a casual day out. She might not have said it a lot (if ever), but the truth was, she really cared about Quinn and Rachel, and she didn't want to see anything bad happen to them, even if Rachel _did_ have superpowers. What if it turned out that the little diva was actually from Krypton like Supergirl and her cousin, and this whole complex was lousy with Kryptonite?

 _Uh-uh. Not on_ my _watch,_ she thought. _Nobody gets to abuse my friends but me._

"For the last freakin' time, will you all just shut your damned mouths?" she snapped. "Worst Scooby gang ever."

Suddenly, they caught sight of a giant hulk of a man flanked by a shorter, dark-haired woman in a crisp set of what looked like blue hospital scrubs – a nurse of some kind? - and a younger, shorter woman with hair so blonde it was almost white. No - a strikingly beautiful _girl,_ one who walked with her head held high and her shoulders back, who walked with the proud stride that marked her instantly as a one-time McKinley High School Cheerio.

"Oh my God, it's Quinn!" Brittany exclaimed in a hushed voice, clapping her hands in delight. "I _totally_ knew I was right. You all should listen to me more often."

Santana pressed a proud kiss to her girl's cheek, wrapping an arm around Brittany's waist and pulling her close. "That's right, Britt-Britt. Now come on, losers. Let's follow them – _quietly._ If you mess this up, I _will_ go all Lima Heights on your stupid, sorry asses."

The group crept forward, unaware that a new shadow had silently come up behind them, and was following them them even as they trailed after Quinn and her companions.

Following, and wielding a weapon in its dark hand.

* * *

In her career as an officer with the National City Police Department, Special Metahuman / Alien Investigations Division, Maggie Sawyer had seen a lot of things. She had seen all kinds of monsters and madness, all manner of things strange and bizarre. Nothing she had seen to this point, however, quite matched the audaciousness, if not outright stupidity, of this group of kids - one of them with a freaking Mohawk, for goodness' sake - sneaking into this most secretive of government installations and wandering its halls as though they were the corridors of whichever local high school had been missing its favorite bunch of delinquents on this particular day. After having spent her morning investigating a variety of cases involving aliens, it actually felt nice to be tailing a bunch of ordinary kids and not aliens who could shoot lasers out of their eyes or suddenly grow ten feet tall or reach out to grab her with multiple tentacles. A refreshing change, really.

She crept after them quietly and carefully, holding her gun, but not expecting she'd have to use it for anything. This was hardly a dangerous-looking group of kids. The one with the Mohawk was even pushing along a boy in a wheelchair, and there were two girls in the lead. One of the girls was a tall, pale-skinned blonde, the other a shorter, dark complexioned brunette, and behind them were the boys, a tall, dark-haired one, a shorter, more muscular blond, and then the Mohawk and the wheelchair kid. They all wore T-shirts and jeans except for the one in the wheelchair, whose clothing was more difficult to make out due to his seated position and the low light the D.E.O. seemed to favor, and which she hated.

Why were they here, Maggie wondered, and where the _hell_ were they going? And how did they even know this place existed? The only reason she herself knew about it was Alex, whom she had come to surprise with an impromptu lunch date. They both worked so hard at their respective jobs that it was difficult for them to find time to spend quality couple time together, but spontaneous things like this helped to remind them that they were more than just their occupations. And now, she thought ruefully, this bunch of truants was cutting into that precious time. She knew she should just rush up and bust them now, but her curiosity as to their intentions was too strong. She really wanted to see what this was all about before she hauled them all into Hank Henshaw's office, where they would no doubt get a good tongue-lashing from the agency's intimidating Director.

As she drew closer to the group, she began to make out their hushed voices whispering back and forth to each other. The ringleader was obviously the dark-haired girl, and the way the blonde girl stuck to her side told Maggie that the two were together. She couldn't help but smile, remembering her own first love from back in high school. Something told her, though, that these two were far more than the average teen couple; she just had a sense of these things. Just like she had a sense about herself and Alex. Clearly, they were all good friends, despite the ringleader's evident exasperation with the others. They interacted with the practiced ease of people who spend an inordinate amount of time together, like Winn and James, who were Alex' sister Kara's two closest friends.

And then was finally close enough to hear them clearly: "Oh my God, it's Quinn!" said the tall blonde girl. "I totally _knew_ I was right. You guys should listen to me more often." The darker one, the ringleader, planted a kiss on the blonde's cheek. "That's right, Britt-Britt. Now come on, losers. Let's follow them - _quietly._ If you mess this up, I _will_ go all Lima Heights on your stupid, sorry asses."

Maggie had to smile at the girl's sassy attitude; it reminded her of her younger self once again. But now that she knew what they were doing, it was time for her to put a stop to it. This place was far too dangerous to let a bunch of clueless, if quite harmless, kids roam around it unsupervised. She was amazed that they hadn't tripped any kind of security measures by now - but then again, _she_ hadn't, either. Maybe that was because they were designed more to detect metahuman and alien types than ordinary human intruders. She'd have to have a word with Alex about that later. Right now, she needed to get this bunch upstairs and let Henshaw decide what to do with them.

 _"Freeze!_ National City Police! Stop right where you are, and put your hands up - all of you. _NOW!"_

The group's movements ceased immediately. Maggie smiled. She had them.

"Turn around. _Slowly._ "

Again, they did as they were told, and now Maggie could see their faces for the first time. Wait a minute - she recognized these kids! Alex had insisted on showing her a slew of videos on YouTube the other night. These were the New Directions, a group of singing, dancing teens from somewhere in Ohio, here in National City for some kind of competition. Alex had mentioned that her sister was covering that competition on her first assignment as a reporter for CatCo Media, and that she had discovered one of them was actually super-powered alien, a girl named Rachel Berry. Peering in the dim light at their faces, Maggie determined that the Berry girl wasn't among this group, and heaved a sigh of relief. From what Alex had told her, that girl was as powerful as Supergirl, maybe even more powerful. Her gun would have been less than useless in that situation. She hated that kind of situation.

"Don't shoot me," the boy in the wheelchair said, fear evident in his features, hands held up. "I'm a bleeder."

"Shut up, man. I've dealt with cops before. Let _me_ handle this," said the boy with the Mohawk. He stood behind the one in the wheelchair, with a smirk on his face as he crossed his arms. Maggie stifled a laugh at the boy's absurd cockiness, the typical macho bravado of the teenage male juvenile delinquent. She was not impressed.

The ringleader, whom Maggie now saw as a beautiful Latina, spoke up, standing protectively in front of her tall blonde girlfriend. "No, Puck. If we let _you_ handle this, we're _all_ ending up in juvie. I'll do the talking." _Smart girl,_ Maggie thought.

"Officer, I'm sorry. My name is Santana Lopez. There seems to be a bit of a misunderstanding here," the girl said smoothly, ignoring the glare sent her way by the boy she'd called Puck. "We were just following one of our friends, who was brought here for reasons we don't know, and we wanted to make sure she was safe."

Maggie was about to reply when she saw the hulking form of Hank Henshaw suddenly looming behind them, looking thoroughly irate, his eyes red with anger. _Literally_ red. She had to remind herself of his Martian origins to keep from shrinking back. He was fearsome even when he was in the best of moods, but when he was pissed...she shivered in spite of herself. These kids had no idea of what was in store for them.

"What the hell is going on here?" he thundered. All the kids except the one in the wheelchair jumped, nearly startled out of their wits. The blonde girl yelped in surprise, clinging to Santana. "Who are you people, and what are you doing in my compound?"

Another blonde girl suddenly appeared in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere. "They're my friends! Leave them alone!" she cried. Maggie could see that she looked drawn and tired, and that she was shocked to see her friends here. Clearly, she'd had no idea that they were coming.

"Quinn!" they all shouted in unison, turning to engulf her in a massive group hug. "Thank God you're okay," Maggie heard one of them say; she couldn't tell which one, in the press of bodies. She was touched by their loyalty, even if this _was_ a supremely stupid thing for them to have done.

"This is a government facility," Henshaw growled, unmoved by the touching scene. "You are _all_ in very serious trouble."

At that, the group separated. "San, I don't want to go to juvie," said Santana's girlfriend, her blue eyes wide with sudden fear. "They fight over _waffles_ in there!"

Before anyone could say anything else, a blur of blue and red streaked down the hall, another streak beside it. All at once, Supergirl stood next to Maggie, and a shorter, visibly upset girl with large brown eyes and a very short skirt stood next to her. Immediately, the name came to Maggie - this was Rachel Berry.

"J'onn! What are you -?" the Girl of Steel asked, one arm extended in front of Rachel, as though to bar her way. Rachel was too shocked at the sight of her friends in the middle of the D.E.O. complex to even speak, much less run to them - or worse, attack the Director. Confusion swam in the girl's large, deep brown eyes - until she saw Henshaw looming behind the New Directions. Then they narrowed, and a blaze of angry heat rose in them.

Maggie whispered to Kara, "The girl is ready to blow. _Please_ don't let her." Kara's eyes flicked to meet hers in acknowledgment, even as Rachel stared a hole through J'onn's broad barrel chest.

"Stand down, Miss Berry," Henshaw barked, immediately seeing the look of anger on the girl's face, the tension in her body. Those two things told him that she would not hesitate to launch herself at him in order to protect this group of young people. He felt the power rolling off her in waves. "I'm not going to harm them," he said, much more softly this time. Rachel didn't look convinced. Her fists were clenched at her sides. He tried again. "Everything is under control."

Quinn stepped forward, tears standing in her hazel eyes. "Rachel, it's okay. I'm fine. They're fine." She held her arms out, inviting an embrace. "Come here. _Please."_

Maggie and Kara locked eyes. What could they do if Rachel decided to attack? The tension grew thicker. The boy in the wheelchair looked as though he was about to pass out. Santana held her girl tight, the blonde's face buried in her shoulder.

And then, after several long and frightening moments, Rachel finally ran over to Quinn, who wrapped her arms around her as tightly as she could. She barely even the pain in her ribs, where Rachel's powerful arms encircled her torso. She let her tears flow freely into her best friend's long, dark hair as everyone else let out the breaths they'd been holding.

Kara sent a thought to J'onn through the mind-link they shared, breathing a sigh of relief as another part of her mind absently noted her sister's out-of-breath arrival on the scene, and Maggie going over to hug her. _We need to talk. Let's get them upstairs and figure this out._

J'onn wearily nodded his agreement. An already long morning was getting even longer. He was afraid to even wonder what else could happen.

And that was when a high, keening alarm began to sound, shattering the silence.


End file.
